The Dark Lords Ascendant
by claymade
Summary: The past is catching up to Ranma and Ryouga, and so are the Sailor Senshi. Now the accidental Dark Lords will have to come out of retirement for one more conflict. And the stakes will be even higher than any of them realize...
1. Before the Storm

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** This fic is Part Two of the "Dark Lords of Nerima" series. Since this is a sequel, it's highly recommended to read both the first fic, as well as the interlude fic that follows it, before reading this one, since otherwise it may be a bit perplexing why the characters are in the situations they are.

And now, without further ado...

* * *

**The Dark Lords Ascendant**

Chapter One: Before the Storm

Night had fallen on Nerima.

It was a calm, quiet night—which was a precious reprieve for many of that ward's inhabitants. No shouts or crashes broke the expectant silence. No dueling martial artists leapt from rooftop to rooftop under the moonlight. No strange creatures roamed the streets. It felt almost as if the ward itself were holding its breath, waiting in anticipation.

Amidst all of this, amidst the peace and the calm and the quiet, in the guest room of the Tendo family home, Saotome Ranma slept... and dreamed of the past.

* * *

_"Left!"_ Ranma shouted in exasperation, as he crawled through the dark, cramped tunnel after Ryouga, even as Mousse in turn crawled behind him. "I said _left_, not right! And stop going down! We don't need to go any deeper than this!"

"What are you talking about, Ranma?" the lost boy shouted back over the repeated blasts of his Bakusai Tenketsu as he tunneled further down into the earth. "I'm not going any deeper!"

_"Yes you are, moron!"_ Ranma resisted the urge to bash his head into the tunnel wall, wondering what on earth had possessed him to suggest this plan. In theory, the Bakusai Tenketsu was absolutely ideal for moving right through the earth itself. In theory, the technique allowed them to tunnel far faster than any normal excavation could have dreamed. In theory, what they were trying to do should have taken mere minutes.

In practice, however, when the one using the technique was a member of the Hibiki family, that was most decidedly _not_ the case. Ryouga's ability to hold a steady course or follow directions was abysmal enough even at the best of times, but down under the ground—with nothing but blank rock to gauge his position against—it became positively nightmarish.

Up ahead, the sounds of blasting continued... until suddenly Ryouga let out a startled cry and tumbled out of sight as the earth before him gave way without warning. Ranma crawled over to see what had happened, and then let out a groan.

"Looks like we got turned around worse than I realized," he called back to Mousse, as he watched Ryouga climb back to his hands in the cramped space he had fallen into. "We just hit one of our tunnels from earlier, and I don't even recognize which one it is. I guess we oughta just head back to the surface and get our bearings. Even I don't know which way is which anymore."

_It's like Ho'o Peak all over again..._ the pigtailed fighter thought to himself, shaking his head. Then, too, the three martial artists had tried to tunnel their way out of the depths of the Phoenix People's mountain, and they were having no better luck directing Ryouga's course now than they'd had back then. The result was the same in both cases: a growing labyrinth of convoluted, criss-crossing passages leading everywhere but where they wanted to go.

"Wait." It was Mousse who had spoken up. Glancing back over his shoulder, Ranma saw a strange, unreadable expression on the face of the glasses-wearing warrior. "Going back to the surface may not be necessary. There is... some new training I have been undertaking recently. It may help us find the right direction with less delay."

Ranma's eyebrows went up a little, and then he shrugged. "Worth a shot, I guess. What kind of a technique is it?"

"It is still... very imperfect at the moment," warned Mousse, not exactly answering Ranma's question. "So it would be best if you two kept as quiet as possible." Then without further explanation he closed his eyes, his brow furrowing in concentration. Then he reached out and gave a quick rap on the tunnel wall with a single knuckle.

For a few seconds, Ranma waited in silence. Then Mousse opened his eyes. "We're actually not that far from our goal," he said. "Have Ryouga keep following the tunnel we just hit for about seven yards, if you can. Then when it starts to curve try to get him to make a turn in the opposite direction. After that, you just need to keep him going in a straight line."

That, of course, was far easier said than done. "Just" keeping Ryouga going in a straight line when he was leading the way was two steps short of impossible. There were still countless wrong turns to endure, and Mousse ended up needing to repeat his strange trick two more times. Ranma wondered privately why the hidden weapons master had been undergoing such odd training in the first place, but Mousse seemed extremely uncomfortable talking about it, and the pigtailed fighter decided not to press the issue.

Eventually, Ranma noticed that their tunnel was starting to hit dark crystal instead of ordinary rock, and he knew that they were indeed getting close. Then, at last, they burst up out of the tunnel and climbed out into a full-fledged hallway made entirely out of the same crystal they had just been digging through.

They were in. All in all, with Mousse's unexpected method of helping, it had taken them a mere three hours to accomplish. It was, Ranma reflected, probably some kind of record where the lost boy was concerned, not that Ryouga looked particularly joyful about it.

Then again, there wasn't really much at all that Ryouga looked particularly joyful about these days.

"The décor is certainly... interesting..." muttered Mousse, squinting a little through his glasses as he looked around. It was as if they were standing in a hall of mirrors. Everything was made of crystal, reflecting and refracting their images at bizarre angles that shifted constantly as the three of them began to walk down the passage.

"_Creepy_ is what I call it," put in Ranma. His every sense was alert, ready for action at a moment's notice, but no enemies appeared to challenge them. It seemed that their entrance had been undetected so far.

The place was almost as much of a maze as Ryouga's tunnels had been. They wandered up and down the halls, sometimes finding the occasional door that would lead them into empty rooms or yet other hallways. Eventually they stumbled across a spiraling staircase that they followed upward and upward to the highest floor that it reached. After that, the next door they opened led them unexpectedly to a small exterior ledge, from which they could see the full scale of the structure they had been sneaking around inside.

The huge black crystal towered over the surrounding buildings, dwarfing them. The three martial artists were standing on one of the asymmetric protrusions that jutted out every which way from the main body of the crystal. Its height offered Ranma a sweeping, panoramic view of the city below.

He could also see several news helicopters circling back and forth through the air around the structure. They had been covering the story since the crystal had appeared, as the attention of the city focused itself on the inexplicable phenomenon. None of the reporters had been able to enter the crystal itself, however. Access had been prevented by an invisible energy shield—the same shield that the three martial artists had so recently tunneled underneath.

And finally, high above everything swirled a seething vortex of purple energy. It was centered directly over the dark structure, blotting out the sky, as though reality itself were draining away into a hole in the heavens. Ranma felt a small shudder run through him—one that had little to do with the sudden blast of cold wind that he had exposed himself to by stepping outside at this altitude.

The pigtailed fighter hadn't particularly expected to find himself back in Juuban like this. With the world-ending threat of Metallia gone, there shouldn't have been any need. The Sailor Senshi were more than capable of protecting the area from any random, run-of-the-mill monsters that happened to crop up, just as he took care of any that showed up in Nerima.

But this... whatever this was, it was no ordinary problem. And in the end, even the risk of re-igniting his problems with the Sailor girls hadn't been enough to keep him from investigating it himself, to try and figure out just what on earth was going on here.

With one last glance up at the foreboding vortex, Ranma backed through the door again and re-entered the crystalline structure. All this searching, and they still hadn't found any sign of who—or what—was behind this thing suddenly appearing out of nowhere. He would have expected to have seen _someone_ by now. But the place seemed utterly empty and deathly quiet. And that was starting to unsettle Ranma more than swarms of minions would have.

They continued to search, none of them saying much. The further they went, the more Ranma felt the tension in his stomach increase. _There's gotta be someone here, somewhere..._ he thought. _So where are they?_

Eventually, the trio turned a corner and found themselves facing a sprawling chamber filled with towering pillars that stretched up to an incredible height. The young warriors spread out, moving silently from column to column as they made their way through the vast space. Ranma licked his lips. He was getting a bad feeling about this place, one that was only getting worse with each step they took.

Deeper and deeper they went. Until, at last, they reached a small clearing in the forest of pillars. In the center of that clearing was a circular section of the floor that had been slightly lowered, forming a shallow inset. And in the center of that inset sat a single, hunched figure.

Its back was toward the three of them. No details of its form could be seen, as it was wrapped completely in a dark cowl. Ranma could actually sense ki from it—it was alive, technically—but its presence was decayed and twisted beyond that of any human Ranma had ever encountered. He exchanged glances with Ryouga and Mousse, who both nodded. He didn't know what exactly this... thing... was, but he was willing to bet that it was what they were looking for.

_"Hey!"_ Ranma called out, as they stepped out from the ranks of columns and into the open space. "Are you the one who planted this crystal in the middle of the city? Mind telling us why you did it?"

There was a moment of silence. Then, still sitting, the cowled figure levitated into the air, rotating slowly toward them. Its face still could not be seen, hidden deep in the shadow of its hood. It was holding a crystal sphere of some sort, which hovered in midair between the figure's hands. Those hands were the only part of its body that was visible, and they seemed to _ooze_ with a chaotic shift of color and pattern, each color a putrid brown or green or red.

"How did you enter the crystal?" the figure demanded in a harsh, distorted voice. "I specifically instructed Black Lady to set up a barrier field around the immediate perimeter. How were you able to penetrate it?"

"Oh, we're real good at getting into places we ain't supposed to be," shot back Ranma. "Now answer the question."

The hooded figure regarded them without speaking for a few seconds longer. Then it looked down at its crystal ball, and an image appeared briefly in it, showing a white-haired man in a white uniform sitting on a throne-like chair, a pensive expression on his face. Seeing that, the cowled figure made a satisfied noise, and looked back up at Ranma.

"You have come at a very delicate juncture in my plans," he said. There was a strange note to his voice, one Ranma couldn't quite put his finger on. It was almost as if the hooded figure wasn't really talking to them at all. Almost as if it were carrying on a conversation with itself, one that the three of them just happened to be privy to. "Since I do not wish to occupy my attention dealing with you, I will make you a very rare offer. Leave now. And I will permit you to continue living until the Dark Gate opens and I am able to unleash my true power upon this planet."

"Well if _that_ isn't generosity then I don't know what is," was Mousse's sardonic reply. Then his right arm blurred, and a spear shot out of his sleeve and into his waiting hand. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline, though. I think I'd prefer to kill you right here and now instead."

Ryouga cracked his neck and settled back into a fighting stance. "I agree. You're the one who'd better give up, if you want to make it out of this in one piece."

Ranma took a stance as well. "Saotome Ranma, of the Saotome-style Anything Goes school!" he called out. "What's your name, blanket-man? I'd at least like to know whose ass it is that I'm about to kick."

The hooded figure was silent for a moment. The words of Ranma's formal martial artist's challenge had caused it to pause for some reason. "I am..." it began, then hesitated for a moment longer before continuing. "I am the Death Phantom. I exist to eradicate all life, to return everything to the perfection of silence and nothingness. And no one shall stand in my way." With that, the crystal ball began to glow with a near-blinding light, and it unleashed an enormous blast of energy straight toward Ranma.

Ranma flung himself to one side, the beam ripping through several of the tall columns as it roared past, sending broken debris raining down from above. The pigtailed fighter hit the ground in a roll, even as Ryouga and Mousse both raced toward the enemy in twin blurs of speed. Mousse reached the target first, lunging in with his spear at where the figure's throat should have been—

—only to have the Death Phantom simply vanish. It reappeared floating off to Mousse's right, his crystal ball already glowing again, while Mousse was off-balance from his missed lunge. Another beam of destructive magic tore through the air, this time aimed at the hidden weapons master. But Mousse managed to spin his spear and jam the blade into the floor, using it to vault himself into a flip over the attack, though it snapped his weapon beneath him as it went by.

Even in midair, Mousse twisted to face his opponent and began hurling a rapid-fire barrage of throwing knives, while Ryouga ripped bandannas off his forehead by the handful and hurled them as well. None of them touched the cowled figure, who simply vanished once again. _Teleportation..._ thought Ranma. _I'd almost forgotten what a pain it can be to fight these kind of magic users..._

With that, Ranma joined the attack as well. But rather than simply chasing after their opponent—which had been futile so far—the pigtailed fighter concentrated more on analyzing their enemy's teleportation. Its speed, its timing, its patterns. The positions and angles that the Death Phantom liked to counterattack from. Ranma's eyes picked apart every detail as the battle raged on and on.

Every so often, in a display of contemptuous nonchalance, the Death Phantom would call up the image of the white-haired man on its crystal ball and check on it, even in the middle of the fight. Ranma didn't know why the cowled figure was so intent on keeping watch over that man. What exactly was it worried about?

They continued to fight, the three martial artists and the lunatic mage chasing each other back and forth in an intricate dance of death, magic and steel and bladed cloth filling the air. And then Ranma saw it. The opening he had been waiting for. In less than a second, the Death Phantom would vanish to avoid a bomb that Mousse had just lobbed at him. And Ranma could anticipate _exactly_ where he would reappear when he did.

The pigtailed fighter burst into motion even as the Death Phantom disappeared from sight. He was a blur of red and black, launching high into the air on a precise arc, rebounding off one of the columns, and twisting in mid-flight, aiming. A half-instant later, the cowled figure reappeared beneath him... with Ranma right in its blind spot and a Moko Takabisha already on the way down. "Hey Mousse, _catch!_" he shouted, as the ki blast exploded into the Death Phantom's back, knocking it earthward with a surprised roar of pain.

Mousse leapt up to meet it, a sword in each hand, using the force of his enemy's descent to help skewer both blades straight through its chest. Then he used his grip on the hilts to fling the cowled figure down on a new course. "Ryouga!"

The lost boy slammed into the Death Phantom just as it was about to hit the ground, pounding away at it with all his might. Punch after devastating punch crashed into the cowled figure, driving him backward until Ryouga had it pinned against one of the pillars. Still Ryouga continued to batter it, cracks growing in the column behind from the force transmitted through the Death Phantom's body. Within a few blows the column was about to shatter, and Ryouga drew back his fist for the punch that would drive the lunatic completely through it—

—but as he swung, the Death Phantom's hand shot up and caught the lost boy's arm at the wrist, stopping the punch cold a few inches in front of the shadows hiding its face. Ryouga's eyes went wide, and he strained with all his might to complete the attack, but the Death Phantom's grip did not waver.

"Strong..." the Death Phantom mused, and deep within the shadows of his cowl Ranma saw what seemed to be its eyes begin to glow. "Impressively strong. And yet... so very fragile in other ways. I believe that I can _use_ you."

The lunatic's other arm shot out, latching around Ryouga's throat, and the Death Phantom began to levitate the two of them straight up. As they rose, the crystal ball rose along with them, and black smoke began to pour out of it and engulf the lost boy. "Tell me, Hibiki Ryouga..." the Death Phantom said. "Why are you fighting to save this world, when it has given you so much pain and sorrow? Surely you can see that painless nothingness is preferable to an existence like yours... an existence where you are _always_ left alone in the end?"

Ryouga screamed, clenching his teeth and thrashing back and forth in an attempt to break free. _The bastard is pulling some kind of mind-magic on him!_ Ranma realized. It was the only way the Death Phantom could have known any of that. "Don't listen to him, man!" the pigtailed fighter shouted up. "You're stronger than that, I know it! Don't let him twist you around! You aren't alone here!"

Hearing Ranma's words seemed to give the lost boy some strength to fight the spell, snapping him back to reality a bit. But the Death Phantom just kept on talking. "You lost Akane. You lost Akari. It was inevitable. What did you have to offer them in the first place? A shiftless vagabond, constantly absent for weeks on end. No steady work. No prospects. No _future_."

Ranma, meanwhile, had run to where he could get a clean shot at Ryouga's tormentor, and he hurled up a Moko Takabisha with a snarl. But the Death Phantom was too fast, and simply shifted its arm so that the lost boy was moved into the path of the oncoming attack. Ryouga let out a cry of pain as the ki blast slammed into him, and the Death Phantom chuckled.

"You see?" it said. "Even your 'friends' attack you. And why not? Haven't _you_ done the same to them so many times? What have you _ever_ accomplished in life, other than fighting? You are just a rabid beast, only fit for battle and destruction. So _destroy_. Destroy everything and everyone... and then I promise, your pain will cease."

His thoughts racing, Ranma wracked his brain for what to do. Ranged attacks were worse than useless; Ryouga would just be used as a shield, not to mention that he wasn't even sure how much effect they would have. Even now, Mousse's two swords were still impaled straight through the lunatic's shrouded torso, with no apparent effect. And trying to jump up and reach hand-to-hand range would be suicidal. As high up as the Death Phantom had risen, it would have plenty of opportunity to observe their trajectory and shoot them down if they committed to a leap.

But... maybe they could take advantage of that.

"Don't listen to his bullshit!" Ranma shouted up. "He's lying through his teeth, Ryouga! _Fight it!_" Then he turned to Mousse, speaking quickly in an undertone. "We gotta get up there. I need one of your chains."

Mousse gave a curt nod, understanding the plan immediately. He pulled a long chain from his sleeve, handing one end of it to Ranma, while he kept hold of the other. The Death Phantom, meanwhile, had not been silent. "Embrace the silence, Hibiki Ryouga," it commanded, the black smoke increasing its thickness. "It is the only thing left to a failure like you. You know this. You've known it every day of your life. Everyone you love will leave you. Everyone you trust will abandon you. In the end, you have nothing. In the end... you _are_ nothing."

_Time to shut you up!_ thought Ranma savagely, as he launched himself into the air, hurtling straight at the cowled figure as the chain trailed behind him. The Death Phantom shifted his free hand to point at Ranma... and then hesitated for a tiny fraction of an instant.

Because now it was a game of nerves and timing. If the Death Phantom fired too soon, then with the chain connecting him to Mousse, Ranma could dodge even in midair. If the Death Phantom fired too late, Ranma would be in striking range before it could complete the attack. And there was less than a heartbeat in which to make that calculation.

The Death Phantom fired. Ranma yanked with all his might on the chain, as did Mousse, wrenching the pigtailed fighter back down even faster than he had risen as an enormous beam of magical energy seared over his head. Ranma landed in a crouch next to Mousse, who immediately placed his foot in Ranma's linked hands. Now it was Mousse who leapt upward, his speed aided even more by Ranma hurling him.

Their enemy could not recover fast enough from the missed attack they had lured it into making. Before it could fire a second one Mousse was in range, ripping a sword from his sleeve as he shot upward and swinging it in a single, vicious slice that cut straight through the elbow of the arm holding Ryouga. The cowled figure let out an inhuman howl of pain and wobbled in its hovering, even as the hidden weapons master grabbed the lost boy with his free hand and then swung his sword back down at the Death Phantom's head.

Their enemy's remaining hand shot out, and managed to catch Mousse's sword arm at the wrist, stopping his attack before it hit... only to have Ranma swing up the chain Mousse had left below. It coiled around the Death Phantom's neck from behind, allowing Ranma to wrench their opponent earthward with all his might, slamming the cowled figure into the floor.

In less than a second the Death Phantom had recovered, its now-glowing eyes turning to focus on Ranma. But that was a grave mistake. Because in focusing on the one who had just struck it, it was _not_ looking overhead, not looking at the martial artist who had suddenly become the most dangerous one of the three.

_I bet you think you're so clever, messing around with people's minds like that,_ Ranma thought. _Using your damn magic to drive them to that kind of complete, utter despair. Well guess what, Mr. Death Phantom? This time... you used it on the worst possible person._

_**"Shi Shi Hokodan!"**_

The Death Phantom looked up, just in time to see an _enormous_ blast of concentrated depression an inch from its hooded face. The next instant, Ryouga's attack smashed its target into the ground with unbelievable force, the shockwave from its detonation blasting Ranma off his feet and sending him flying away in an uncontrolled tumble. It did far worse to the cowled figure, shattering its body into fragments and scattering them in every direction.

A moment later, Ryouga and Mousse landed in the gaping crater that had been blasted into the floor. The lost boy dropped to his knees, tear-tracks lining his face, his breathing ragged. "Hey..." Ranma said as he climbed back to his feet and walked over toward his rival. "Hey man, you did it! You took him down!"

Ryouga did not reply, his gaze unfocused, staring off at nothing. Ranma and Mousse exchanged glances. Then, after an uncertain pause, Ranma continued talking. "Look, we... probably should look around a little more, see if there's anyone else around here. He mentioned something about a 'Black Lady', right? Mousse, why don't you stay here with him 'till he's feeling better. I'll go see what else I can find."

The glasses-wearing fighter nodded, and Ranma turned to leave. He didn't have a clue what could be done about this whole crystal fortress in the middle of the city, or the 'Dark Gate' that the maniac had told them about, but hopefully the Sailor Senshi would know how to deal with that stuff. For now, he just wanted to make sure there weren't any other hidden surprises lying around for them. He headed away from the open space they had been fighting in, back toward the forest of pillars... but then paused, noticing something out of the corner of his eye.

It was the Death Phantom's floating crystal ball, now lying on the ground on the crater slopes. Somehow, it had avoided destruction from the super-charged Shi Shi Hokodan. _Thing must be crazy tough,_ Ranma mused, as he walked over to it for a closer look.

There was something... weird about it, something that made Ranma feel uneasy. He knelt down and picked it up, running his fingers over its surface as he focused his senses on it. _This doesn't make any sense,_ he thought. _It's definitely some kind of crystal, but at the same time, I can still sense a presence from it! This thing... it's alive somehow! In fact... this is the exact same presence I was sensing from the Death Phan—_

His thoughts were cut off as countless spears of writhing black energy impaled him from behind. Even absorbed in the sphere as he'd been, he managed to react in time to avoid a lethal hit... but not by much. The sharp tentacles of darkness proceeded to fling him into the air, where a beam of magic slammed into him, blasting him straight through a row of pillars with rib-snapping force. Finally he slammed into the ground, his body leaving a long, bloody smear on the floor as he rolled to a stop.

With an agonizing effort, he eventually managed to lift his head off the ground to see what was happening. Ryouga and Mousse were locked in desperate combat with the Death Phantom once again. Its cowl was in tatters now, allowing them to see what had been underneath.

It was little more than a skeleton. The arms, with their shifting, putrid colors, connected to other bony structures throughout its body, leading up to the bleached-white skull it had for a head. Its body was still in the process of pulling itself back together, bits and pieces of itself floating up to it, where they were knit back into place, repairing missing limbs and gaping holes. Even the tattered cowl was repairing itself, flowing and melding as it rose to wrap itself around its wearer once more.

"You pitiful fools," the Death Phantom mocked, flexing its fingers as they regenerated. "Did you really think that you actually had any chance at all in this fight? It is _impossible_ for you to defeat me!"

_That's why nothing we did worked!_ Ranma realized through the haze of pain. _All the punches, the cuts... it was just pulling itself right back together again under that damn cowl!_

The remaining two martial artists continued to fight on, but Ranma could see that it was futile. _No matter how many times you hurt it, it'll just heal right back up,_ he thought. Then his eyes widened in a sudden realization. _That crystal ball he has! That's the real key! It has to be! It had the Death Phantom's life force in it, and it was the only thing that didn't get destroyed by the Shi Shi Hokodan!_

"...ball..." he managed to croak out, trying to crawl back closer to the battle. "...break... the ball..." But he was too far away, and no one heard him over the din of combat.

The battle raged on, but at that point it was only a matter of time. Mousse was the next one to make a mistake, and his body was flung through the air like a rag doll just as Ranma's had been. At that point only Ryouga was left standing.

And he did not last long alone.

Soon the lost boy was down on one knee, battered and bleeding, his breath heaving in and out. The Death Phantom hovered high above him, looking no different than he had at the beginning of the battle. "Now... where were we?" the creature asked. "Ah yes. I believe that you were about to become my newest servant."

The cowled figure descended toward the lost boy... but paused, as if suddenly recalling something. Then the Death Phantom looked quickly down into its crystal ball, bringing up the image of the throne room once again... which was something that it had not remembered to do even _once_ since the three martial artists had started actually injuring it.

The throne-like chair was empty. The white-haired man was gone.

"No!" rasped the Death Phantom, and began to cycle rapidly through images on the crystal ball, his search becoming more and more frantic with each second that passed. Taking advantage of his distraction, the injured Ryouga tried to leap up at the cowled figure, only to be swatted back down again with a wave of its hand and a blast of magic.

Then, at last, it located the object of its search. The white-haired man was now standing on the exterior of the huge crystal fortress, looking down at another man, this one with blue hair. And the blue-haired man seemed to be shouting something up at him.

_"No!"_ roared the Death Phantom again. "Damn you, Sapphire!" Then the cowled figure vanished from sight, teleporting instantly away from that chamber, even as Ranma's vision faded into black.

* * *

Ranma jerked awake, fighting against his sweat-drenched sheets in disorientation for a moment before he realized where—and when—he was. _Just a dream,_ he thought. Even in the dark he could still recognize the outlines of the Tendo guest room, could hear the familiar sound of his father snoring on the futon next to him. With each passing moment the images became less immediate, fading back into the memory from which they had been born.

_That's weird,_ Ranma thought, as he slowly pulled himself up into a more comfortable sitting position._ It's been years since I really thought much about that fight..._

Their situation had seemed pretty bad at the time, of course, but hindsight had dulled much of the pain and worry. Whatever the Death Phantom had gone to do, the injured Ryouga had made the most of the opportunity. He had grabbed both Ranma and Mousse, and dragged them out of there before the immortal skeleton had returned. Ranma didn't remember much of the ensuing flight—by that point he had pretty much passed out from pain and blood loss—but Ryouga had somehow managed to stumble his way down to the lower levels, and from there tunnel his way out again.

Ranma had woken up three days later in Doctor Tofu's clinic, with Akane, Ukyo and Shampoo watching over him worriedly, and with Ryogua and Mousse in nearby beds. He had soon learned the news that the crystal fortress was no longer a problem—specifically, the _entire thing_ had been obliterated from the face of the earth by a power they could only assume had been Sailor Moon's.

Not that Ranma had been particularly surprised to hear that. The Death Phantom had been powerful, sure, but it hadn't come even remotely close to the scale of something like Metallia. Ranma was pretty sure that in straight-up mage-to-mage combat, Sailor Moon could wipe the floor with it, even using only a tiny fraction of the power he'd seen her pull out at the North Pole.

At least, as long as she'd gotten to him before he'd finished opening that "Dark Gate" he'd been going on about...

Either way, after that things had settled back into a relative lull again as far as the Sailor Senshi were concerned, leaving the martial artists to deal with their own problems. They still occasionally heard stories floating out of the Juuban area every now and then, but usually only when something particularly noteworthy or strange happened.

One time he'd heard a rumor that one of the Sailor Senshi's fights had completely trashed the building of some fancy private school, which brought a nostalgic smile to Ranma's face as he remembered their own school-destroying rumble. Then a while later, he heard that they'd started fighting monsters by summoning an actual _flying unicorn_, in order to... well, the stories hadn't been clear on just exactly _what_ the flying unicorn did, but apparently it was important somehow.

Still, the Nerima fighters had little time to ponder such things, caught up in their own battles as they were. And the more they fought, the more their fame spread through the martial arts world. And the more _that_ happened, the more people would come begging for their help, sometimes coming from remote parts of Japan, and occasionally even from China.

As the years went by they faced down vengeful ghosts, mad scientists, an army of ancient golems led by a three-story monstrosity, and everything in-between. And that wasn't even counting all the duels, challenges, murder attempts and unwanted suitors that seemed to rain down into their lives on a regular basis.

And then there had been the business in India... Ranma closed his eyes, trying to push the memory of those months out of his mind. It was over and done with now. The captive girls from around the world were safe, the ritual had been averted, and the self-proclaimed "god" who had orchestrated it all wouldn't be threatening anyone else with his insanity ever again.

When they had gotten back to Japan, they'd discovered that they'd missed another big Sailor Senshi battle while they'd been gone, some kind of throwdown at the Tokyo Dome, of all places, during the final concert of some pop group, and then later on at some TV studio somewhere, all of it coinciding with massive, planet-wide disturbances. Apparently it had been pretty intense, but by all accounts the magical girls had come out on top once again.

There hadn't been much out of Juuban since then—save for a close call or two when the Sailor Senshi dropped by to eat at Ucchan's again in their civilian alter egos as they sometimes did. Still, the distance between Nerima ward and Minato ward made even that a relatively infrequent occurrence.

Which was why it was so _odd_ that he'd had this dream now. It wasn't as though he had any shortage of other memories from the more than two years since that fight that would make even better fodder for nightmares. Sure, getting turned into a human shishkabob by a sneak attack from a demented, near-unkillable skeleton hadn't exactly been his most glorious moment ever, but there were certainly far worse to choose from.

So why now? Why, all of a sudden, with nothing to bring the matter to mind, had he dreamed of the last time he had been involved in one of the Sailor Senshi's battles?

Ranma stared up at the ceiling, which offered him no answers. It was still in the dark of night, with hours left until the dawn, but he could tell already that he would get no further sleep. He was left alone with his thoughts, and an apprehension growing inside him to which he could not even put a name.

* * *

The shifting white mist hung in the air of the pocket dimension, obscuring anything beyond the immediate surroundings. No sound could be heard, only a somber, unbroken hush. Two things could be seen in all that expanse. The first was a large stone gate, its doors inscribed with symbols marking the phases of the moon. The second was the lone guardian standing vigil over it.

She watched the Gates, as was her charge, a tall figure in a sailor seifuku, with long green hair running down her back. The passage of aeons had done nothing to shake her resolve as she held her position there, charged to prevent any and all from passing through that forbidden gateway.

The march of hours, days, years, centuries, millennia... all of it meant little to her. But eventually, sometime in the midst of the endless stretch of silence and solitude... something changed.

The Gates of Time began to open.

Immediately Sailor Pluto leapt back, raising her Garnet Rod, her every instinct at full battle readiness. She was fully prepared to unleash destruction on whatever trespasser had dared try to use the ancient artifact to traverse the currents of time. No matter what deadly menace, no matter what unstoppable horror faced her, she was prepared to give her life, if necessary, to prevent it from altering the course of history. She gathered her power, as the Gates finished opening and—

_"Puu-chan!"_

—a small, pink-haired blur rushed out to envelop Sailor Pluto in a hug. The Senshi of Time released the attack she had been preparing and lowered her weapon to return the embrace. "Small Lady..." she sighed, not truly surprised. It had, after all, been her the last few times the Gates had opened in such a way, but she could not afford to relax her vigilance.

The lonely guardian looked down with affection at the young girl who was the only other person who could manipulate the Key of Space-Time. Sailor Chibi-moon, the Small Lady, otherwise known as Chibi-Usa. She was Sailor Pluto's beloved princess, the child and heir of Neo Queen Serenity and King Endymion. Or rather, she _would_ be their child, almost two thousand years in the future.

It was for this child that Sailor Pluto had committed the gravest breach of her duties in her entire life. When the Black Moon Family had attacked Crystal Tokyo, when the Death Phantom's power had laid waste to the world of the future, the Senshi of Time had broken her vows and hidden the young princess in the only place she could. The past. The distant past of Chibi-Usa's own mother, back when she had been called Sailor Moon.

At the time, it had seemed the only way. She _couldn't_ let them hurt Small Lady. She had tried to justify it to herself by the argument that the earth had already been almost completely destroyed, and any changes that might be introduced into the timestream could hardly be worse than what had happened. And indeed, not only had Sailor Moon been able to defend her daughter from the minions that the Black Moon family had sent in pursuit, but she had even destroyed the Death Phantom itself.

All in all, Sailor Pluto had been relieved beyond words at how events had turned out. Despite all the changes to the past, the future had ended up brighter than ever. She had been fully prepared to return to her original purpose, safeguarding that new future from any and all attempts to alter it.

Except that Neo Queen Serenity _kept sending Small Lady back!_

There had been little that Sailor Pluto could do. She herself had granted Sailor Chibi-moon the right to use the Key of Space-Time, and such things could not be revoked. And of course, there was no way she could bring herself to raise her hand against the young princess. Sailor Pluto had argued with the Neo Queen for hours on end—nearly beside herself—trying to convince her of the horrible danger in further tampering with the course of time, but was completely unable to change the other woman's mind.

And so Chibi-Usa had returned to the past once again, this time on the flimsiest of excuses. To "get some extra training" and to "make some new friends"... throwing a random element right into three of the most dangerous struggles for the fate of the planet.

Admittedly, the resulting changes had all ended up being for the better in each instance. Sailor Saturn surviving the clash with the Death Busters, the Amazon Quartet turning their backs on Queen Nehelina, and the eventual redemption of Queen Nehelina herself. But how had the Queen _known?_ Of all the uncountable possibilities that could have resulted, how had she been so certain that sending her daughter back would do what it had done? It was at times like these that Sailor Pluto had to wonder if her monarch really did have access to some Higher source of insight that even the guardian of the Time Gates was not privy to.

Either that, or the Queen simply had more dumb luck than any ten people Sailor Pluto had ever met. It was slightly terrifying to her that she couldn't decide which explanation was the more likely one.

And now she was at it again. Sailor Pluto looked down at the young girl—older now than the last time she had come through, but still a child—and rested a hand affectionately on her head. "And what brings you to your mother's past this time, Small Lady?" she asked. "More searching for friends, perhaps?"

The pink-haired girl shook her head, causing her pink pigtails to swing back and forth around her head. "Nope!" she said. "It's for a party! My fourteenth birthday is in a month, and Mother thought would be good to have the celebration back here!"

A _party_. Did that woman's insouciance know no bounds? Sailor Pluto studied the Time Gates again, taking note of the time it was opened to on the other end, and saw the cleverness in how it had been arranged. On both ends of the time passage it was one month from June 30th—which was either Chibi-Usa's fourteenth birthday or her negative one thousand and eighty-fifth, depending on which side you looked at it from. "I see..." was Sailor Pluto's even reply. "And did your mother mention, by any chance, why she sent you back a full _month_ before the event is to take place?"

The young princess's face took on a puzzled look. "Not really," she admitted. "To... get everything ready, I guess? She did say I should invite a _lot_ of people."

Not that Sailor Pluto believed for a moment that that was all there was to it. There was some other purpose at work here. The truly frightening thing was that she had no idea what it could be. With Sailor Galaxia's threat gone, there just weren't supposed to _be_ any more enemies or battles worth interfering in. In fact, it would not be long now before the first, ominous signs would begin to show of what would eventually become the Great Freeze, the mysterious ecological catastrophe that would send the planet into frozen hibernation for a thousand years.

By all that was holy. Did the Queen intend to meddle even in _that?_ And if so, how did she expect one little girl to affect a disaster of which they had never even been able to determine the ultimate cause?

Apprehension churned in her stomach, but Sailor Pluto let none of it show on her face. At this point there was nothing for it but to see what happened... and pray that her liege knew what she was doing. "Well then," she told Small Lady. "We should bring you to your mother and let her know of this, so that the preparations can begin. I am sure that it will be... most memorable."

Chibi-Usa nodded vigorously, not picking up on the older woman's trepidation. Sailor Pluto took the young princess's hand, and teleported the two of them out of the pocket dimension and to a place in the normal world not far from the Tsukino family home.

Once they had rematerialized, Sailor Pluto turned toward Small Lady once again. "We should find somewhere private and undo our transformations," she suggested. "Then we can find your mother and tell her—"

But she was cut off, as the sound of a loud explosion reverberated through the air. Both of them whirled, to see a thick plume of smoke rising up a short distance away. "What was _that?_" asked Sailor Chibi-moon, startled.

"I am not sure..." was Sailor Pluto's measured reply. But there was one thing of which she _was_ sure. One way or another... this was the beginning of another round of trouble.

* * *

_"Sparkling Wide Pressure!"_

The sphere of pale blue energy shot down the street toward the grey, hulking, eight-legged creature at the other end. But just before the attack hit, the thing leaped with a velocity that seemed impossible for something of its size and bulk. It launched itself through the air to latch onto the wall of a nearby building, while Sailor Jupiter's attack instead struck a parked car, blasting the empty vehicle apart in an explosion of gasoline and electrical discharge.

Screams from fleeing bystanders filled the air as the monster immediately jumped back off the building wall, flipping over a stream of blazing fire, and landing with a pavement-cracking impact directly in front of Sailor Jupiter, looking balefully down at her with its single, blood-red eye. It swung one of its telephone-pole-sized legs around at her, but the green-skirted Sailor Senshi leaped back just in time. All the swipe succeeded in doing was to clip some strands of her shoulder-length brown hair as the limb ripped within a few inches of her face.

Even as she landed she was readying another Sparkling Wide Pressure, her teeth clenched. Around her, her teammates were locked in their own battles, fighting against other strange grey monsters. They weren't all the same kind as this tank-sized spider that she and Sailor Mars were fighting; the two slashing away at Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen were human-shaped, except that they had four arms apiece, each one gripping a sword. The one fighting Sailor Mercury and Sailor Venus was a beaked, feathered monster that kept dive-bombing them from above, darting to and fro through the air with blinding speed.

The entire situation was a nightmare. The monsters had attacked without warning, targeting a busy thoroughfare. Fortunately the Sailor Senshi had been close by, but they were struggling to hold their own. The things were _fast_, and there were still too many civilians nearby—hiding or cowering or injured—for them to risk using their most wide-scale destructive attacks.

Tuxedo Kamen's cane was blurring as he dueled one of the four-armed monsters, while the creature's partner chased after Sailor Moon, who dodged and rolled and backpedaled frantically away from the hungry blades. Sailor Jupiter knew that if the blonde girl could only get enough space to cast her Silver Moon Crystal Power Kiss it could turn the entire battle around. The scale of that attack was huge, and its magic wouldn't harm any of the surrounding humans, so it could be used with impunity. But those four slashing swords were barely giving her time to _breathe_, let alone get off a spell like that.

Sailor Venus and Sailor Mercury were unleashing their own powers skyward, water and golden light filling the air as they attempted to shoot down their adversary. But the feathered monster swerved and wheeled around their every attempt, banking back and forth with seemingly-impossible control. The thing swooped down at Sailor Mercury again, angling just around the raging stream of her Mercury Aqua Rhapsody, and slammed its shoulder into her.

The Senshi of Water was sent staggering, leaving her wide open to a slash from the monster's claws. But just before the slash hit her, the golden heart-shaped links of the Venus Love-Me Chain wrapped around the creature's torso and yanked it away headlong, flinging it through a nearby storefront window in a shower of shattering glass.

Sailor Jupiter hurled her Sparkling Wide Pressure at the huge spider-thing, even as the spider's crimson eye began to glow. As the blast of compressed electrical power shot up at it, its eye released a blast of its own, dark red energy that struck the Senshi's attack head-on. The resulting explosion carved a small crater into the street below and sent the young woman skidding backward, but she managed to keep her footing. The monster's eye glowed once more—

—only to stagger to its knees as an arrow of flame slammed into it from the side, causing its shot to go wild and miss the Senshi that had been its target. Sailor Jupiter took full advantage of the monster's disorientation, bursting into an all-out run straight toward it. One more Sparkling Wide Pressure formed in her palm as she ran. Sailor Mars' attack didn't seem to have seriously damaged it; the thing's hide was infuriatingly tough.

But if that was the case...

The green-skirted Senshi leapt through the air right at the hulking figure, even as it righted itself, its eye beginning to glow again in an attempt to intercept her. _Not fast enough!_ Sailor Jupiter thought as she swung her hand down from above, driving the Sparkling Wide Pressure directly into the thing's eye with all her might.

The monster writhed and spasmed, electricity crackling all through its body as the Senshi of Lightning released her power into it. Even then, however, it made no noise at all. It convulsed in absolute silence, smoke rising from it as Sailor Jupiter pushed her attack deeper and deeper through the eye into the thing's body, pouring more and more of her power into it as she went.

Finally, when she had buried her arm almost to her elbow, she allowed her attack to explode deep within the creature. The thing gave one last thrashing convulsion and then crumpled to the ground, its body slowly melting into a pool of murky ooze.

Breathing hard, Sailor Jupiter looked over to check on the other battles. The tide was beginning to turn. Sailor Mercury had managed to freeze the flying monster's legs to the ground in a sheathe of ice and was holding it trapped there, allowing Sailor Venus to fire a point-blank Crescent Beam Shower into the creature, killing it. Tuxedo Kamen and Sailor Moon were both holding their own already, and now that Sailor Jupiter and Sailor Mars were free to help they could start taking down the sword-wielders.

Then the situation changed.

The sword-monsters must have realized that things were going badly for them, and they decided to switch tactics. In the space of an instant, the one attacking Sailor Moon abandoned its assault on her, and joined its fellow by rushing at Tuxedo Kamen from behind. Sailor Jupiter's eyes went wide, but she didn't have an attack prepared and couldn't ready one in time. She could only watch as the swords cut through the air toward the masked man's unprotected back.

_"Pink Sugar Heart Attack!"_

A split-second before the blades struck home, the monster was blindsided by a rapid-fire stream of large pink hearts, each one slamming into it with enough concussive force to blast it back through the air. It tumbled end over end along the street before regaining its footing, even as all eyes turned toward the source of the unexpected intervention. "Sailor Chibi-moon!" called out Sailor Moon.

It was, indeed, her. The pink-haired girl stood on a nearby rooftop, with the austere figure of Sailor Pluto standing next to her. Startling to Sailor Jupiter was that the girl was now quite a bit older than when she had last visited this time period, though she supposed that it explained the increased power behind what had formerly been a somewhat useless attack.

"For love and justice!" the young Senshi exclaimed, assuming a pose. "The pretty soldier in a sailor suit, Sailor Chibi-moon! In the name of the future moon, I'll punish you!"

But in that split-second of distraction caused by the unexpected reappearance of the girl from the future, the surviving two monsters made their move. One threw itself at Sailor Moon, its four blades slashing in from every direction. The startled girl tried to leap away, but didn't quite make it, and two of the blades ripped bloody gashes in the forearm she had thrown up as an instinctual defense. She tumbled away, clutching at her arm... which left an opening for the monsters to escape.

They took it. Now outnumbered eight to two, the two survivors evidently decided that discretion had become the better part of valor. They leapt for the rooftops, bounding from one to the next as fast as they could. Sailor Pluto chased after them, but they were faster than she was, and were able to avoid the one Dead Scream that she managed to launch at their fleeing forms.

_"Sailor Moon!"_ All this Sailor Jupiter was only aware of peripherally. Her primary focus was on her injured friend, who she immediately ran toward, along with the rest of the Senshi. Tuxedo Kamen, of course, reached her first, and was kneeling over her when the others arrived moments later, including Sailor Chibi-moon, who had jumped down from the rooftop and scrambled over to where her mother lay. "Sailor Moon, are you all right?"

The blonde girl looked up at them with a small wince, but then offered a reassuring smile. "I'm... okay..." she said, while still clutching her wounded arm protectively. "I'm sorry about that, everyone. I guess I wasn't paying enough attention."

"We were all distracted," was Tuxedo Kamen's immediate reply, his voice soothing. "And it could have been much worse. Let me see this." His motions gentle, he moved Sailor Moon's hand away from the bleeding cuts and placed his own hand over them. The injured area glowed for a moment with a golden light, and when he moved his hand away the injury was gone. The only sign left that it had ever existed at all were the bloodstains running down the length of Sailor Moon's arm.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief at that, allowing them to focus on the larger problems now that the immediate ones had been dealt with. "What _were_ those things?" asked Sailor Venus. "Some new enemy? I didn't recognize them at all."

"Their attack didn't match any of the patterns of our previous opponents," put in Sailor Mercury, her voice thoughtful. "They struck in a group, for one thing. And they didn't seem to be trying to harvest life energy, or take heart crystals or star seeds or... anything. They weren't even attacking people directly, at least not that I saw. They were just smashing things. Causing a commotion."

"Like they just wanted to get our attention," said Sailor Jupiter, her expression grim. "Like they were testing us."

No one had anything to say to that. At length, Sailor Mars spoke up. "Well if this _was_ a test, then we sent them packing. And if they want to try again... we'll just have to be ready to deal with that as well."

* * *

But as week after week went by, they saw no further sign of their strange, grey-skinned opponents. The Sailor Senshi remained vigilant, but there were no attacks, no hints, no clues, nothing to go on. At length, they began to wonder if the creatures had been related to any larger threat at all. Perhaps they had just been isolated monsters—somehow finding their way into the city and causing a commotion before being driven back out to remote parts again. It wouldn't be the first time such a thing had happened.

At the same time, they were preparing for the unexpected event of Chibi-Usa's birthday party—coinciding with the much more expected event of Usagi's own birthday party, since both mother and daughter shared the same birthdate of June 30th. The preparations were a whirl of confusion and chaos as more friends, family and other Sailor Senshi were pulled in. Soon the event had begun to snowball beyond any of their expectations, taking on a life of its own.

True to Neo Queen Serenity's prediction, the number of attendees kept growing and growing and _growing_, as the two girls ended up inviting more and more people that they hadn't seen in a while. It was times like these where it became truly apparent just _how many_ lives Usagi had touched over the years—not only in her battles as a Sailor Senshi, but also as the friendly, lovable klutz that couldn't bear to leave someone alone when they were in trouble or pain or friendless. And even the large guest list they ended up with was only a fraction of them.

Overall, the atmosphere of the Tsukino household and those associated with it was a joyous—if slightly frazzled—excitement. The only one who found it hard to partake of the feeling was Sailor Pluto. Even on the visits she made in her civilian guise of Meiou Setsuna, she found it impossible to shake the foreboding that had taken hold of her.

She didn't let it show to the others, choosing keeping her fears hidden behind the enigmatic expression she wore. But the fears were there nonetheless. What twist of fate did Small Lady's unexpected return to this time portend? And what would the consequences be for all of them?

* * *

Of course, the residents of Nerima were not idle during those weeks.

His hands tucked deep within the voluminous sleeves of his robe, Mousse walked down the street toward the Kuno home. He knew the way quite well by now, but he still kept himself open to his surroundings. He could sense the ki of the people in the houses he went by, and he could even sense the ever-so-subtle way that their ki interacted with any nearby walls or floors. When combined with his reading of the echoes and vibrations of ambient noise around him, it allowed him to form a quite decent mental image of what those buildings would have looked like, had he been able to see them.

It was a terribly intricate and complex process. When he had first begun his training it had taken him hours of meditation to get a complete picture of even a single room. Now, after nearly two years of constant use, the delicate interplay of high-level techniques came as naturally to him as breathing. He no longer had to think about combining the different senses; he simply _perceived_. A one-block radius was his usual, comfortable range these days, but if he really focused he could double that, and extend it even further if he was willing to trade fine detail for distance.

Soon the hidden weapons master approached his destination. He detected four presences in the house up ahead. By the proportions of their bodies two were female, one was male, and one was a giant sumo pig. The subtle nuances of the auras of Kuno and Kodachi were familiar enough that he could identify them by that alone, which meant that the remaining female was almost certainly Akari. He could also sense Kodachi's pet crocodile, Mr. Turtle, in the pond out back, but its breathing rhythm told him that it was currently asleep.

He walked up to the door and knocked three times, the minute vibrations of each knock rippling through his perception of the house's interior, shifting its contours in subtle ways. Inside, Kuno and Akari looked up at the sound, but Kodachi did not, nor did she show any other reaction. Mousse's mouth bent into a small grimace. She had not noticed the knocking, which was generally not a good sign.

Kuno's presence rose to a standing position, his feet impacting against the floor as he walked through the hallway over to the door and swung it open. The kendoist's heartbeat picked up minutely as he saw who it was, indicating surprised pleasure. "Ah, my Chinese compatriot!" he exclaimed in his usual bombastic tone. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

"I was in the area on a delivery and decided to drop by," answered Mousse. "Is your sister in, by any chance?" Gauging Kuno's position, Mousse oriented his head to try and "look him in the eye" as they spoke. It was something he usually tried to do—despite how irrelevant it was to him personally—in an attempt to make his conversations feel less awkward for the other person.

"I see." Kuno's voice took on a slightly puzzled tone, no doubt wondering why Mousse was, yet again, checking up on his sister. "Yes, she is home at the moment. Though I do not know if she desires visitors."

"I'll take the chance." He had already known Kodachi was present before asking the question, of course, but he tried to avoid reminding people of how little privacy their walls gave them when he was in the vicinity.

Kuno nodded. Then, turning, he led Mousse back down the hallway and into the room he had just come from. The presence that he'd guessed to be Akari rose to her feet as they entered, and the sound of her voice confirmed it. "Oh, hello Mousse!"

The hidden weapons master replied with a small nod of his head. "Miss Akari." He'd never really happened to spend all that much time around her, and he knew her mainly from Ryouga's—and later Kuno's—descriptions, along with a handful of passing encounters here and there. Nevertheless, he did notice a small addition around one of her fingers that hadn't been there the last time they'd met, sensing it through the miniscule-yet-detectable fluctuations it created in the flow of her aura. "It seems that congratulations are in order?" he continued, gesturing toward it.

The nineteen-year-old girl's heartbeat began to flutter faster at his observation, and her voice took on an equal mixture of pleased and embarassed. "I... yes, we... we're not going to actually have the wedding until Tatewaki finishes his university studies... so it'll still be quite a while yet... but he said that he wanted to express his intentions right away."

Mousse moved beyond passive observation for a moment, sending out a tiny pulse of his own ki aura rippling across his surroundings, which he used to bring his awareness into even sharper focus. The engagement ring around Akari's finger was ostentatiously large, as one might expect from someone with Kuno's temperament and monetary resources. Even so, Akari seemed happy with it if Mousse was any judge of voices.

And judging emotions by the voice was a skill in which Mousse had no small amount of practice.

"Well, my best wishes, whenever it comes to pass," the hidden weapons master offered politely. Then he turned toward the hallway that led to Kodachi's room. "If I may?"

"Of course!" At the girl's assent, the hidden weapons master stepped around her and continued on toward his destination.

Soon he was standing in front of the last door. On the other side of it, Kodachi was sitting curled up on her bed. Deciding there was no point in beating around the bush, Mousse knocked on the door. Inside, the girl's breathing and heartbeat shifted slightly—enough to tell Mousse that she had noticed him that time. But there was no other response.

After waiting for several seconds, Mousse opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. Focusing, he noticed that the room's light switch was in the "off" position, and the heavy blinds had been drawn as well, which meant that the room was probably quite dark.

At last, Kodachi spoke. "Why are you here?" she demanded in a rough, raw voice, as she raised her arm and swiped it angrily across her eyes.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," Mousse answered, his voice calm.

"Hah!" Kodachi laughed, a single, bitter laugh. "Wanted to see how well your lies had taken root, more likely. Do you have more ridiculous stories today? More tales of a year that _you_ claim I do not remember?"

The gymnast was the only member of their Dark Kingdom invasion force that had not fully regained her memories of the year that Sailor Moon's power had rewound. At first they had tried to restore her like everyone else, but had backed off when they saw how violent her reaction had been once those memories did start to resurface. Eventually, most of them had decided it would be kinder to let her remain ignorant of the past that she clearly did not want to remember.

Mousse had thought so too... at first. But lately he had come to believe otherwise. This state she was in—half-remembering, but not willing to accept it—was putting an ever-increasing strain on the psyche of a girl whose grip on reality had never been the most stable to begin with.

"I won't say anything if you're not ready to hear it," The hidden weapons master said. He was trying his best to be gentle and comforting in how he spoke, but he felt completely unsuited for this sort of role. "But you can't keep running from this forever. It's tearing you apart."

At his words the young gymnast rose to face him, standing up from the bed, her body radiating agitated, unstable ki like a bonfire. "What would _you_ know?" she hissed. "What would you know of how I feel? And why do you even _care?_"

Mousse didn't reply immediately. The last question was one he'd asked himself more than once. Kodachi wasn't his problem, after all. Even in the years he'd lived in Nerima they hadn't crossed paths much, and he had only started taking a close interest in her recently. Maybe it was a sense of obligation to someone who had fought alongside him on several occasions: the Dark Kingdom, the Kyushu incident, India. Maybe it was because he could "see" her more clearly than the others could, reading her emotional state. Maybe it was because he alone had noticed the ever-growing strain on her psyche, noticed that it was something deeper than just her usual manic behavior.

Or maybe... maybe it was because he had come to see a little bit of himself in the poor, lunatic girl. Hopelessly in love with someone who would never love them back, not in the way she wanted. Just another casualty of the romantic battlefield that was Nerima.

"It's not important," Mousse replied. "I just think that this is something you need to face. If you think I'm lying to you, then talk to someone else. If you asked him, even Ranma will—"

As soon as the words left his mouth, the hidden weapons master realized that bringing up Ranma had been a mistake. With a savage burst of motion, Kodachi rolled off the bed to her feet, and Mousse heard her fling something through the air at him—one of her roses. Instinctively he focused on the oncoming projectile, analyzing the object's internal structure in an instant, noting the chemical fuse that would shortly trigger the explosive embedded in the flower.

Then his arm blurred. He whipped a European-style saber out of his sleeve, cut the rose in two at the crucial point, and re-sheathed it in his sleeve again, all in the blink of an eye. The bisected halves of the flower fell to the ground, now in no danger of exploding.

With a strangled cry, Kodachi drew her ribbon, and Mousse heard the bladed cloth slice through the air toward his face. His hand shot up and caught the weapon, stopping it cold just before it struck. The gymnast tried to pull it free, but Mousse held his grip, the two of them straining against each other. "Listen to me, Kodachi," he told her quietly, even as he felt a thin trickle of blood run down his palm from the cut her attack had given him. "This isn't some kind of trick. I just want to _help_ you. That's all this is."

Kodachi's jaw was clenched hard, and Mousse could hear her teeth grinding together. "Lies," she eventually snarled. "All lies. You're trying to make me doubt myself, conspiring to keep my darling Ranma from me, filling my head with these... these thoughts... these memories! Even... even Ranma himself is with you! It isn't _fair!_ You think I can't see it? You think I don't know? Just... leave me! _Leave me!_"

"Kodachi..." Mousse began.

_"Leave!"_

Mousse opened his mouth, then realized that anything he said at this point would only make things worse. Finally he nodded, then backed toward the door and exited the room, shutting the door behind him. There was silence for several seconds, and then from inside the bedroom he heard Kodachi let out a scream of rage and pain, then the sound of her ribbon slashing back and forth, ripping the furniture in her room to pieces and flinging it in every direction.

_It can't go on like this,_ the blind master thought, as he listened to the gymnast's destructive rampage. _Something needs to change._

_ I just don't have the slightest idea what to do about it._

* * *

Hibiki Ryouga gazed long and hard into the campfire he had built in front of his tent, as its orange glow flickered in the darkness of the large construction site. The fire caused the surrounding beams and girders to cast interlocking shadows, as its light played against the tall skeleton of the building that was being constructed here. As the young man sat, brooding, he listened with half an ear to the conversations of the half-dozen other construction workers who had gathered around that same fire.

He appreciated them hanging around like this; he knew there were any number of other places they could be. Unlike him, _they_ could leave the construction site without any fear of wandering off across the country instead of showing up for work the next day. It was kind of them to stay after work hours and attempt to provide their youngest member with some degree of companionship.

And such companionship, even from relative strangers, was something both rare and dear to someone who spent the majority of his life alone. Especially in light of recent events, as his thoughts kept circling back to his last conversation with Akane.

_ "Listen... Ryouga. I... don't know how to say this, exactly, but I thought you should know. Kuno... proposed to Akari last week. They're engaged now."_

A small, sad smile crossed Ryouga's face. _So. He finally asked her..._ the lost boy thought. He'd known it would happen sooner or later, of course. It had taken him a long time, but somewhere in the past two years he had been forced to realize that any chance he'd had with Akari was now long gone, and he honestly wished her the best in the new life she was heading toward.

But even so... hearing the news _did_ bring back memories. Memories of their brief time together. Memories that were all the crueler for being some of the brightest moments in his nineteen years of life.

Ryouga didn't exactly know how long he spent lost in reminiscence like that, but eventually he noticed that one of the other construction workers was talking to him specifically. He blinked and glanced up at the speaker. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

The man was in his late fifties at least, with steel-gray hair and a hard, craggy face. All the men who had lingered around his campsite were old hands; the younger, more inexperienced workers had left immediately after their shift had ended. "I said that you've been doing good work so far, kid," he repeated. "Can't remember the last time I saw a new hand as strong as you are. Guess you've had training?"

Ryouga nodded once. "Some, yes."

"Know any construction techniques? I've seen you heft a girder around with the best of them, but have you learned anything from an actual construction style?"

A question about martial arts was a welcome distraction from the melancholy of memory. "I did go through the Bakusai Tenketsu training," Ryouga said. "And I also learned the Shi Shi Hokodan from a construction worker I met in a cave somewhere in the mountains."

The older man's eyebrows went up a little. "Not bad. Most kids your age don't even get close to anything on that level."

Ryouga shrugged. "I mostly use them for combat, but they're definitely helpful for jobs like this too." The lost boy didn't exactly have much in the way of marketable skills, other than physical labor and beating things up. And while his nomadic way of life was far less expensive than city living, he still needed to bring in some money every now and then. He didn't usually make much at any given job before getting lost again, but every little bit helped.

The conversation, meanwhile, had caught the attention of the others now. "You ever come up with any techniques of your own?" one of them asked, professional interest in his eyes.

"A few," answered the lost boy. "Most of them are just different versions of the ones I already knew. There's some interesting tricks you can do with the Bakusai Tenketsu if you play around with it enough. And the toughening it gives your body is even more important. I modified that part a couple times too—usually when I had to train for a really important fight."

"What's to modify?" asked another worker, both his tone and expression skeptical. "You pound yourself with rocks, and you keep doing it until you're tough enough that it doesn't give you trouble anymore. What more is there to it than that?"

"When you stop using rocks." Ryouga's reply was flat and to the point. "The training is the same. The last change I made was to use a 'boulder' that was twice as big as the last one... and made of solid steel."

One of the workers let out a low whistle, and the faces looking at him took on a variety of expressions, different shades of either shocked, impressed, or disbelieving. "Why on earth would you go that far?" asked another one of the workers. "I never even had the guts to go through the _ordinary_ Bakusai Tenketsu—always thought it was overkill. Why would you ever need training like _that?_"

Ryouga looked away, as his thoughts went back to the final, terrible battle that he and Ranma had fought in India, high atop their enemy's mountain fortress. "Because we needed to stop a monster," he told them. "And believe me, even _that_ training wasn't enough. It took... something more to actually kill him."

The older men glanced at each other. "Well, it's damned impressive, whatever the reason," said the worker who had first spoken to Ryouga. "It's hard to believe anything human could survive something like that."

The lost boy shrugged, turning back to gaze into the depths of the fire once more. "It's nothing special, really," he said. "It's not like it takes any particular talent. You just have to take enough hits. Eventually you don't even feel the pain anymore."

* * *

"Fifty-eight!"

_"Hiyah!"_

"Fifty-nine!"

_"Hiyah!"_

"Sixty!"

_"Hiyah!"_

The enthusiastic battle cries poured from a dozen throats to fill the Tendo dojo, as a dozen fists shot out in tolerable approximations of correct punches. The students, each one clad in a white karate _gi_, stood in three rows of four, their feet planted wide apart in a horse stance as they drilled one of the most basic fighting techniques. With each count they alternated between hands, punching away at the air.

Akane, clad in her own _gi_, walked up and down the rows, calling out the numbers as she went, while at the same time making small corrections here and there. Sometimes she would adjust the orientation of a fist, sometimes she would remind a slacking student to keep their knees bent. It was the simplest of lessons, which Akane herself had been taught almost from the time she could walk.

The students drilling it today were each in their early to late teens already, and none of them had any intention of taking it much beyond what Akane would consider the basics. But as far as the basics went, they were proving eager enough learners.

Her eyes drifted up toward the front of the class, where her friend Yuka was. Sweat was pouring down the girl's brow, but she kept up with the count. Her attacks had an admirable snap to them, considering how little time she had been training. It was Yuka who had been the start of all this, really. Akane had urged the other girl to learn at least some basic self-defense after a bad incident with a boyfriend back during their senior year. Yuka had been resistant at first, but eventually she had agreed to a few private lessons at the Tendo dojo.

To Yuka's surprise, she had enjoyed it immensely. To _Akane's_ surprise, once word started to get out about their lessons, Yuka was not the only one who wanted them. Even though the excesses of the "dating challenges" on her way to school had long since died down, she still had many admirers among her classmates, both romantic and non-romantic. And after talking it over with her father, he had given her his blessing to open the Tendo dojo to outside students.

"All right!" the youngest Tendo called out, once she was satisfied with their performance in the punching drill. "Next we'll work on your kicks, starting with the front kick. Ready?"

_"Yes, sensei!"_ responded a chorus of voices. The class proceeded to do exactly that, followed by several more kicking drills, and then moving into practicing some basic _kata_. By the time the class reached its end, the students were all drenched in sweat, all panting for breath, and Akane judged that this had been a good session.

She called them back to attention, then had them kneel for a period of meditation. After that was complete they bowed to each other, and with that she dismissed the class. A few of the newer students fairly collapsed with relief, though Akane noted with approval that the endurance of the more experienced ones was definitely improving.

Even after the dismissal many of the students lingered around for a while, chatting with her, asking her various questions. She walked with them to the main gate of the Tendo compound, talking freely all the while. Eventually, though, the last of them departed, leaving her alone in the yard.

She took a deep breath, then let it out, savoring the cool evening breeze as it whispered past her. It was getting late; the class had run longer than expected, and around her everything was already darkening toward night. _I shouldn't have lost track of time like that..._ she told herself reprovingly. And yet... she so _enjoyed_ working with the students, helping them learn. Akane knew that she was not the most powerful fighter around, that when it came to the life-or-death battles her contributions were relatively small. But here, in these classes, it truly felt like she was doing something _meaningful_. And that was precious to her in a way she could not even put into words.

_Well, that's it for tonight,_ she thought, as she walked back toward her house. _I wonder if dad is back from—_

A frantic flash of her danger sense was her only warning. She spun, wrenching her head away even as she threw up her arms in a block that deflected a vicious kick aimed at where her skull had been. The force of the kick sent her stumbling backward, but she still managed to parry the three follow-up punches and leap away to a safe distance. There she took a stance, raising her fists in a guard as she regarded her attacker.

Shampoo stood there, dressed in a gold-and-black cheongsam that hugged her curvaceous form tight. Her expression was intent as she watched the other girl, but there was also a spark of pleased approval deep in her eyes, a hidden almost-smile that only those who knew her well would be able to detect. "Tsk. Is too bad. Look like Akane not _quite_ so careless today as usual."

Akane smirked. The sneak attacks were a new dimension to their duels, one that had started without warning almost a month ago. The young Tendo had spent the first week or so getting smashed into the ground over and over again without even detecting Shampoo, and it was even longer before she had been able to mount a fully successful defense.

Of course, as soon as she had successfully defended, Shampoo had simply made the _next_ sneak attack even harder to detect, until Akane had been able to counter that as well. It would continue to escalate, Akane knew, until the Chinese girl decided there was another area that needed work even more. Before sneak attacks it had been defense against swords, and before that it had been dodging thrown projectiles.

"You're here early, for a weekday," commented Akane, as she began to circle her rival. The young proprietress of the Nekohanten generally liked to oversee her restaurant's operation personally during its business hours, unless something significantly more important trumped that. Usually that meant chasing after Akane's fiancée, of course.

The Chinese girl took a stance as well, holding up a single hand in front of herself, palm inward. Her other hand she held behind her, in a fist at the small of her back. "Is slow night. Have Mousse watching things for last few hours, and new hires making deliveries. Can handle that much without Shampoo, Shampoo think."

"More time for this, then!" With that, Akane launched herself at the other girl, attacking with a quick combination of punches that Shampoo blocked effortlessly with her outstretched hand. The Joketsuzoku girl endured the attacks, biding her time... then struck back with a single, lightning-fast swipe that Akane had to jerk her head back to evade, interrupting her momentum.

Immediately Shampoo went on the offensive, launching an unrelenting chain of kicks that chased her opponent backward, switching legs back and forth, attacking from every angle. "How was today class with city-children playing at martial art?" inquired the Chinese girl as she battered against Akane's frantic guard.

Akane tried to duck under one of the kicks and attack with a leg sweep, but Shampoo leapt over it into a twisting, acrobatic flip. Her trajectory carried her directly above Akane, and while passing overhead she tried to punch straight down from above, but the Tendo girl managed to get her arms up in time to block it.

"It's not 'playing' for them," Akane responded, as she went on the attack once more. She darted in and out of range, trying to create an opening with quick punch flurries while not committing herself in a way Shampoo could exploit. "And even if they aren't as good as any of us, it doesn't mean they can't get a benefit from it."

"If Akane say so." Shampoo made a sudden, swift kick at Akane's knee, which the young Tendo avoided by yanking that leg up. Then she turned the motion into a kick at Shampoo's head, which was in turn blocked. "Shampoo still think Akane do better to use time for _own_ training. Akane need enough work as is."

"Maybe. But I think I need these classes even more." As she spoke, Akane began to turn up the pressure, the speed of her punches increasing and increasing, until they were barely-visible blurs. Shampoo was still deflecting them all, but now she was forced to use both hands to do it. They danced back and forth, each of them striking, spinning and evading, the ferocity of their clash growing with each passing moment.

Then Akane over-extended one of her punches, and Shampoo capitalized on the mistake, trapping the other girl's hand and twisting it into a wristlock. Akane dove forward, trying to roll out of it, but that only gave Shampoo the opportunity to slip in close and maneuver the wristlock into an even tighter armlock.

Akane's free hand shot down low, managing to hook Shampoo by the ankle. She yanked hard, while at the same time slamming her shoulder sideways into her opponent. The action managed to off-balance Shampoo enough that Akane was able knock her to the ground, landing on top of her. The Tendo girl's arms wrapped tighter around Shampoo's leg, trying for an ankle lock. But before she could secure it she felt Shampoo's fingers sink into her hair, grabbing hold and pulling her up into the air.

The young Tendo tried to wrench herself free, but her opponent was much stronger than her. Despite her struggles, Shampoo used her grip to swing Akane around and slam her face-first into the ground beside her. Akane's vision exploded with white, and before she could regain her senses Shampoo had rolled over on top of her, arm snaking around her neck in a headlock.

Akane struggled, twisting back and forth, trying to get an arm around to dislodge the other girl's grip, but at that point she knew it was hopeless. Shampoo simply tightened her grip, compressing the arteries in Akane's neck, and within seconds she was forced to go limp, tapping Shampoo's arm twice as a sign of her surrender.

The Joketsuzoku warrioress relaxed her headlock, but did not release it. "Akane lose. Again." Shampoo purred the words into her rival's ear.

Such gloating was nothing new, of course. It was the usual result after one of their matches, one to which Akane had long since grown accustomed. And yet... today there was something off. Akane couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the other girl's words didn't have quite their usual smug self-satisfaction. Or rather, the smug self-satisfaction was there, but it sounded _fake_ to her ears. Forced, somehow.

"Shampoo?" Akane asked, frowning. "Is... something the matter?"

For several long seconds there was no reply. The sudden, stony silence filled the air, until Akane began to think the other girl had simply refused to answer. That was even more puzzling. What could have upset the Joketsuzoku girl this much?

Then, at last, Shampoo spoke. Her words were slow, quiet, and studiously devoid of any emotion at all.

"Shampoo is walking along street by park two night ago," she said. "Shampoo see Akane and Ranma walking there too... but Shampoo think Akane and Ranma not realize Shampoo there."

Despite herself, Akane tensed. Shampoo had seen them? This was... not good. The things she and Ranma had been doing on that walk in the park hadn't been _particularly_ compromising, but it was still much more open affection than they had wanted to admit publicly. Not until they had figured out a way to handle the resulting complications.

Only now, the complications had caught up unbidden. She could feel Shampoo's arm tighten slightly in its hold, and she was reminded that from this vulnerable position it would be child's play for Shampoo to snap her neck.

"Akane is not giving up on Ranma." It was not a question, just a simple statement of fact. "That mean, one day, this fight is for real. Is not about what Shampoo want. If Ranma choose Akane... then either Akane or Shampoo is dying. Is tribe law. Is Shampoo _duty_."

"There isn't any other way it can end?" asked Akane.

"No," was Shampoo's curt response. "Is none. And Akane not learning fast enough to even defend self. If Akane is smart, if Akane want have _any_ chance to survive... is only one way."

Akane frowned. "What way is that?"

"Tell Ranma." The two simple words were spoken without hesitation. "If Akane tell Ranma... if Akane _make Ranma understand_ what will happen, Ranma will..." The Joketsuzoku girl took a deep breath. "Ranma will protect Akane. Shampoo know. Even before Shampoo see what Akane and Ranma do in park... Shampoo know. Ranma will do whatever it take to protect Akane."

The young Tendo's heart sank, as she realized what the other girl believed would happen. "You actually think he'd kill you?" she asked, incredulous. "There's no way he would do anything like that. Even if he would, I... I wouldn't _let_ him do anything like that to you!"

Shampoo tightened her headlock again at the words, to the point where it became painful once more. "Akane think this is game?" she hissed. "Akane think _Shampoo_ not kill, if come to that?" Then she hesitated, and when she spoke again, it was in a small, broken voice. "Akane really think Shampoo can bear to face Ranma—can bear to look in Ranma eyes—after Akane dead at Shampoo hands?"

"I..." Akane managed to grate out, despite the pressure on her throat. "Shampoo, I don't know how any of this is going to work out. I really don't. But I do know that any solution that ends up with one of us killed is a solution I don't want any part of. I'd sooner call off the engagement myself than have you _die_ over it!"

"Soft." The word was filled with bitterness and regret. "Akane is too, too soft. If Akane follow Joketsuzoku way, Akane is killing any enemy, _any_ obstacle!"

Akane forced a deep, ragged breath past the arm constricting her neck. "Says the woman who's saved my life... what is it? Three times, now?"

Shampoo had no answer to that. The silence stretched on, until finally the Chinese girl released Akane from the headlock and shoved her face back down into the ground. The young Tendo winced, rubbing her neck as she rolled over, looking up again. "Listen, Shampoo—"

But Shampoo was already gone, vanishing just as quickly and silently as she had arrived.

* * *

His dark eyes burning with anticipation, Ariwara Akio checked his gear one last time before he began this morning's assassination. His katana, sheathed and strapped across his back. The throwing knives lining his belt and hidden in his boots. The black body armor hugging his lithe frame. And the specially modified spear with which he would shortly begin his assault.

He walked up to the edge of the skyscraper he was standing on, and looked across the dizzying gap over to the far higher skyscraper that was his target. The global headquarters of Tanizaki Heavy Industries, a towering edifice of steel and glass, which on its completion had surpassed the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building as the tallest building in Tokyo. It was a symbol of the power held by the eight trillion yen zaibatsu. The company had been owned by the Tanizaki family since its creation back in the Meiji era, with its fingers in countless legitimate enterprises, and whispered rumors of even more extensive dealings under the table.

Apparently, those dealings had become extensive enough that someone wanted the company's owner dead. It had all been done through intermediaries; Akio didn't know who had hired him to kill Tanizaki Kazuo, and he didn't care. All that mattered to him was that the unknown benefactor had given him a hundred million yen down payment, with another hundred million to follow on completion of the contract.

A shark-like smile crossed the assassin's face. Two hundred million yen in total—and all to do what he loved best in the world. What more could a man ask for?

Akio picked up his spear, glancing at the claw on the end of it, designed to punch deep into whatever wall he threw it at and there latch hold. He knew that his prey was in the enormous building at the moment, and most likely in his personal office on the topmost floor. His rope didn't have the length to reach that high, but he didn't mind that in the slightest. It would be more fun this way. He raised the spear, took careful aim, then hurled it with all his strength.

It shot across the dizzying chasm between the two buildings, the rope trailing in its wake, until the claw struck and embedded just below one of the building's countless windows. He then secured the other end of the rope to a hook he had prepared earlier, pulling it taut. And with that he burst into a run, racing up the slope of the cord like a tightrope.

He rocketed toward the building wall, picking up speed all the way. When the distance had closed to a few feet he lunged forward, crashing through the window in a shower of glass. Before his feet even landed he had drawn a throwing knife in each hand and hurled them at the nearest security guards. The spinning blades caught them each between the eyes, killing them before they could react.

Alarms began to blare, triggered by the broken window. People began to scream. Soon the hallway in front of him was filled with secretaries, office workers and other such pathetic sheep, all fleeing in terror. Akio ignored them. Their blood wouldn't even be worth dirtying his blades. _Send someone strong against me!_ he thought, as he began to make his way down the hall. _Someone who can actually get my blood boiling!_

He hadn't made it more than a few strides before a squad of security guards came running up, pushing their way through the escaping civilians with their pistols drawn. But Akio was on them faster than they could react. His first kick sent the broken body of one of the guards through the nearest wall. He then grabbed the next-nearest guard by the front of his shirt and flung him bodily back down the hall. The man flew out the broken window, arms flailing, and plummeted out of sight with a scream.

One of the remaining guards had managed to get his gun pointed at the assassin. Akio waited until the man had started to pull the trigger, then _moved_, pulling another guard into the line of fire to be shot by his teammate. Akio then closed the distance between himself and the shooter while the guard's eyes were still widening in horror, and clasped his own hand over the man's gun hand.

From there he wrenched the gun over to point at a different guard, and used his own finger to force the guard's finger to pull the trigger. Then he twisted the guard's arm back so that his gun was pointing at his own head, and forced him to pull the trigger once again. He finished by kicking the corpse into the last remaining guard, sending them both sprawling.

_Weaklings,_ he thought contemptuously, as he drew his katana to finish the downed man. _No threat at all._

He continued to walk onward, killing his way through every guard that opposed him, until at last he reached his destination. A single pair of steel double-doors that marked the building's central elevator. He didn't bother trying to open them normally; access to the upper floors would doubtless be controlled by access codes he did not have. Instead he sheathed his sword, dug his fingers into the crack between the doors, and then simply wrenched them apart, revealing the open shaft beyond them.

Akio wasted no time in jumping through the opening. He grabbed onto the hanging elevator cable and began climbing hand-over-hand in a rapid ascent. _This contract is fast becoming a disappointment,_ he thought. _I expected a zaibatsu of this reputation to be able to afford far higher quality guards than this! Perhaps I should make a few... personal assassinations after this is over, for my own enjoyment. I want to kill someone challenging! Not some worthless businessman and his inept thugs._

Soon he reached the topmost doors, and proceeded to open them much as he had done the one below. And with that, he exited the elevator shaft and found himself at his destination.

The first thing he noticed was the windows. Huge, multi-pane windows that wrapped around the vast, circular chamber completely. Combined with the unmatched height of the building, the windows afforded a breathtaking view of Tokyo that stretched out in every direction.

Aside from that, the room was austere and spartan. A few tables here and there, with different technical-looking books and papers piled on them. On the far wall was a large computer setup with dozens of monitors, all currently blank. Several large steel pillars dotted the room, running from floor to ceiling. The silence of the room was eerie, broken only by the faint blaring of the alarms coming up the elevator shaft from far below.

The assassin shook himself out of his distraction, reminding himself that he had a job to do, however boring it was turning out to be. He just had to find Tanizaki himself, wherever he was hiding, kill the worm, and the remaining hundred million yen would be his. The "hard" part was over. Now only the search and the slaughter remained.

"You seem to have caused quite a commotion downstairs."

Akio whirled at the sudden voice, his hand reflexively shooting for his sword. His eyes widened a little when he saw who it was that had spoken. "You..." he murmured. "You're Tanizaki Kazuo!"

The man who had spoken was standing off to Akio's right, next to the wall of windows, looking out over the cityscape with his back to the assassin. He wore a simple black business suit, and he held his hands clasped behind him. His black hair had a few slight flecks of grey in it, and though Akio could not see his face directly, he could see a faint image of it reflected in the glass. This was unquestionably his target.

"Yes. I am," the man confirmed, with all the emotion of someone discussing the weather. "And you are Ariwara Akio. A freelance assassin, primarily employed by the Yakuza. You studied for eleven years under Master Hiyama Junichi, before leaving to pursue your own ambitions. There are thirty-seven murders officially associated with your name... as well as three more that you have taken _great_ pains to hide from anyone else's knowledge."

Despite himself, Akio's eyes widened slightly. _"How do you know that?"_ he demanded, trying not to show how unnerved he was. _No one_ should have been able to link him to those three killings in Yokohama. If word got out... if his usual employers found out that _he_ had been responsible for them...

"How I know is unimportant," Kazuo replied. "I understand you are here to make an attempt on my life?"

"Attempt?" responded Akio, trying to regain control of the conversation. "There's no 'attempt' about it. I'm going to kill you!" It wasn't even about the money now. This man knew far too much about him. He had to die, for that alone.

The older man snorted, and shifted his gaze to look at a different part of the city. "You think so? Then you'll have to do a bit better than the amateurish display you've put on so far."

The assassin eyes flashed, and he pulled one of his throwing knives from his belt. This conversation was over, and he wasn't going to spend any further time bantering with a dead man. Akio drew his arm back, and then hurled the blade, sending it spinning through the air right toward Kazuo's unprotected back.

Sheer, unthinking reflex was the only thing that saved Akio's life. One moment he was watching his weapon about to sink between Kazuo's shoulder blades. The next moment he was jerking his head left in a desperate dodge away from something too fast for his conscious mind to even register. He felt a burst of pain across his face and he lost his balance, falling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

He raised a trembling hand to the right side of his face, and it came away covered in blood. Something had slashed that cheek completely open. He turned, his eyes following the trajectory from the cut, and saw his own throwing knife, now embedded to the hilt in one of the solid steel pillars, with enough force that it had sent cracks spiderwebbing through its entire structure.

Akio turned back, his eyes wide, to where Kazuo stood. The man's body was now turned slightly, his arm extended behind him in a throwing position. "Wha...?" managed Akio, his voice faltering. "...the hell did you just do?"

"That," replied Kazuo, his voice cold, "was the _proper_ way to throw a knife." With those words, he finally turned around and faced his fallen opponent directly, looking down at him with merciless, coal-black eyes. He began to walk toward Akio, speaking as he went. "Well then. What are you waiting for, assassin? Don't you have a job to complete?"

Breathing hard, Akio scrambled back to his feet, whipped his sword from its sheath and held it defensively in front of himself. Kazuo continued to close, then halted just outside the reach of Akio's sword, watching with a look of invitation.

Akio licked his lips, circling to the left, then to the right, trying to decide on his avenue of attack. His opponent wasn't even in a stance; he simply stood there, following the assassin with his eyes. _How is he going to react?_ wondered Akio, fighting back a sensation in his stomach that he refused to acknowledge as fear. _I can't even determine his style. What am I up against?_

He decided to lead with a feint, to get some kind of information before committing to a full attack. With a sudden burst of speed, he faked a high slash at Kazuo's head... only to have the man show no reaction at all to the pulled attack. Akio tried again, faking a low cut to the knee this time, but didn't get any reaction from that either, other than a look of mild disdain.

That disdain ignited Akio's anger. He would not let anyone make a fool out of him like this! This bastard wanted to play games, just standing there? He would make him pay for that. This time, when he lunged, it was a _real_ attack, a thrust directly at his opponent's chest.

He had hardly even begun the attack when Kazuo stepped in, sliding around the oncoming blade with the smallest possible movement, and delivering a contemptuous backhand that caught Akio across the face. The sheer force of the blow nearly knocked him senseless, sending him spinning through the air to land in a crumpled heap. Akio staggered back to his feet, only to see that he had lost his grip on his sword when he had been hit. The weapon now lay at Kazuo's feet.

Kazuo glanced down at the fallen blade, then slid his foot underneath it and kicked it in an arc through the air, back into Akio's hands. Then he resumed waiting.

The assassin backed away, trying to get some distance. _There's only one chance left,_ he thought. _My ultimate technique. No holding back. I've got to hit him with everything I've got._ Akio dropped into a deep stance, channeling all the ki he could muster in preparation for his next move. The Makaze-ken. He focused every sense, every muscle, every scrap of willpower he had, knowing that his life would depend on this being absolutely perfect.

Then he exploded toward Kazuo like a bullet fired from a gun, his body vanishing from sight as he hurtled in for a single, lunging slash. No one had ever been able to react fast enough to counter the technique. And—fueled by desperation—this was the fastest he had ever executed it.

One single step away from the point where Akio would have swung, Kazuo lunged forward to meet the assassin's charge by driving his foot down into Akio's knee, using his opponent's own momentum to help snap the joint. Akio screamed, his attack turning into a forward tumble. But Kazuo caught him by the throat before he could fall, and dragged him back to his feet. Kazuo's other hand shot out three times, the first stabbing a single finger into a point on his opponent's lower torso, the second jabbing two fingers into separate points on the man's neck, and the third pressing a point on his shoulder.

Then the pressure points activated, and Akio felt his limbs convulse and spasm, the muscles ripping themselves apart entirely on their own as he sobbed in agony. With that, Kazuo released his hold on the assassin, then drove a kick into his chest as he fell. The blow sent Akio flying back the length of the room, skidding along the floor until he hit the windows at the far end and stopped.

"How disappointing," remarked Kazuo, as he walked over to where Akio's thrashing body lay. "Rudimentary technique. Juvenile tactics. And an altogether overinflated view of your own abilities." He shook his head in disbelief. "I paid a hundred million yen just for your advance fee alone, and _this_ is all the challenge you can offer?"

Even through the haze of pain choking his mind, Akio had finally realized just how in over his head he truly was. Kazuo continued to close in on him, and the assassin knew that his death was only moments away. "P- please..." he managed to gasp out. "Please... please... don't kill me... Please, I'll do anything... Please!"

At the words, Kazuo halted in his approach. A look of disgust crossed his face for a moment. Then he turned away from the defeated assassin, walking back toward the large computer at the far end of the room. Sudden hope flared in Akio. He wasn't going to kill him! He was going to let him live!

As he walked away, Kazuo made a small, backward gesture with one hand. "Zhang?" he said. "If you would be so kind as to dispose of this garbage for me?"

There was a sound of movement from high above, and a figure dropped down from the ceiling into view—one whose presence Akio had not sensed at all. It was a Chinese man with short-cropped black hair, dressed in long black robes that flowed around him as he fell. The man—Zhang—landed next to Akio, looking down at him expressionlessly.

The assassin tried to say something, but before he could, the man withdrew his hands from inside his voluminous sleeves. There was a single senbon needle held between his fingers. Then, with a blindingly-fast flick of those fingers, the needle was suddenly embedded in Akio's neck.

Akio felt his throat constricting, his breath heaving in and out as he began to cough up blood and bile. _Poison!_ he realized. _The needle... poisoned..._

In mindless desperation he tried to crawl toward the robed man, hands scrambling to try and grab hold of his ankles. But Zhang simply turned and walked away to join Kazuo, paying no further attention to the dying man.

As his vision faded into darkness, the last thing Akio saw as he died was the symbol on the back of Zhang's robes. It was a single Chinese character, pure white against the black of the surrounding cloth.

The number four.

* * *

Kazuo pressed a series of buttons on one of the keyboards in front of him, causing large security shields to rise up from the floor to cover the panoramic windows surrounding the room. Once his sanctum was secure from outside observation he activated the computer system, causing the wall of monitors to flare to life, though they only showed a security lock screen. He then typed in his personal password, turned his head to the left to allow for a retinal scan, and then spoke for the voiceprint identifier. "Tanizaki Kazuo. Passphrase: 'The skillful fighter puts himself into a position which makes defeat impossible, and does not miss the moment for defeating the enemy.'"

With all the security checks passed, the monitors switched to displaying once again what he had been working on before the brief distraction. They currently showed a high-level view of his worldwide influence, both official and unofficial, of which "Tanizaki Heavy Industries" was only a small piece. A byzantine network of interconnected nodes, representing all manner of control mechanisms over individuals, corporations, governments, militias, and criminal organizations. The means of control varied: direct ownership, shell corporations, debts owed, bribery, blackmail. And other, even less savory means.

As he studied the diagram, Zhang came up behind him, taking his usual position at Kazuo's right. "I apologize for that, sir," the black-robed man said. "My sources painted a _much_ higher picture of his abilities when I inquired about him."

Kazuo's response was a dismissive wave. "No matter. I really shouldn't expect to find a diamond like you every time I go rooting through the dungheap like this. Still... it has been far too long since I've had an opponent—other than yourself—who could make me truly work for a victory."

Zhang's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "If you _really_ want a good duel, you could always have Doctor Metzger thaw out the Wyrmspawn and release it from its bindings."

That prompted a short laugh from Kazuo, as he tapped a few keys to zoom in on a particular part of his empire, examining its current state in more detail. "Tempting! Very tempting. But as much as I'd enjoy the chance to fight it again, I doubt that even I could contain the battle that would result. Fun is fun, but something like that slaughtering its way through Tokyo is more attention than we can afford at this phase of the plan."

"True enough," agreed Zhang. "Maybe we can release it later, then—after we've finished dealing with the Sailor Senshi."

"It _would_ make for an enjoyable victory celebration. Do you have an update on the project's status?"

"Doctor Metzger says that he has finished his physical evaluation of Unit Zero," Zhang told him dutifully. "And Ekim will shortly complete his testing of the mystical aspects. So far they have found no problems at all."

"Excellent." Kazuo smiled, even as he scaled the view on the monitors back to the worldwide view, looking with calculating eyes at the image of the planet, as though it were merely one enormous chessboard. "Then within the week we should be ready to initiate the final phase of the plan."

"And when we do... the hand of man will shake the very pillars of heaven itself."

* * *

Beneda hurried up to the door of Ucchan's, peering inside through the windows before knocking on the door. The silver-haired, currently-human girl was dressed in a long white dress, with a decorative green ribbon around her neck. A slight frown crossed her features. This was—technically—after hours, and she wasn't sure Ukyo was still around. But, having come this far, she knocked anyway.

As it turned out, her worries were unfounded. After a few seconds Ukyo appeared out of the restaurant's back room and opened the door. "Beneda! Come in!"

The sometime-youma entered her friend's establishment, glancing around as she did so. She still wasn't entirely used to this new location, even though Ukyo had been operating out of it for almost half a year. The growing success and acclaim of the okonomiyaki chef's business had eventually meant that her old building had become too small to handle the resulting crowds, forcing a move to this larger place. It was a full-scale restaurant now, with quite a few tables filling the dining area, as opposed to having simply the counter running around the grill.

It was a sign of the young woman's success that even _this_ place was starting to get packed again, especially during the lunch hours. But then, for an entrepreneur like Ukyo, an overabundance of customers was a nice problem to have.

"I'm glad I caught you," said Beneda. "I lost track of time studying one of Doctor Tofu's scrolls, and I was afraid you might have gone home already."

Ukyo shook her head. "No, I'm actually meeting some prospective customers here in just a bit," she explained. "They're interested in me catering an event for them, and this was the only time it worked out between our schedules to discuss the details."

The catering angle had been another recent addition to Ukyo's business. She had only done a handful of such jobs so far, but they had all been highly successful and she continued to advertise the service as best she could. Beneda was inspired—and a little bit awed—by the young woman's drive. But then, it was difficult for the sometime-youma to imagine Ukyo putting less than a hundred and ten percent of her effort into anything.

"So what brings you here?" continued the nineteen-year-old chef. "Looking for a little late dinner? I could fire up the grill while I'm waiting..."

"No, it isn't that," Beneda said. "I was just wondering if you had run into Ryouga lately, or if you'd heard anything about where he might be wandering, or... anything."

Ukyo's expression immediately became one of understanding, and she shook her head. "No, sorry. I haven't seen any sign of him in weeks."

The currently-human youma sighed, as her face fell. She hadn't really expected Ukyo to have news that the others didn't, but she'd had to try. "I just... want to make sure he's all right," she said. "I know he already gave up on Akari, but even so... it can't be easy on him to suddenly hear that she's getting married. He shouldn't be alone for something like that. You know how bad his depression can get—even in a _normal_ situation."

"I'm sure he'll be all right, sugar," Ukyo reassured her, trying her best to ease the youma's worries. "He's used to working these kind of things through on his own, after all."

_But he shouldn't need to do it alone!_ Beneda thought. He ought to be _here,_ where he had friends who cared about him, who could be there for him in tough times, like he had been there for her. But instead he was out there, lost as always. And he would stay that way until the whims of chance brought his wanderings back to someplace he knew once again.

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by another knock at the restaurant door. Both girls turned at the noise. "Oh, that must be them," Ukyo said, and hurried over to where the sound was coming from, with Beneda following a bit behind. "Welcome!" the okonomiyaki chef exclaimed, as she opened the door. "I'm glad you could make it!"

The prospective customers—two young women—smiled back. "Thank you for agreeing to meet us at this hour, and at such short notice," one of them said, an elegant beauty with marine-blue hair. "We very much appreciate this."

"Not a problem!" was Ukyo's immediate reply. "You said over the phone that this was for... a birthday party, right? Is it one of yours?"

The other young woman—an athletic-looking blonde, her hair cropped short—shook her head and laughed. "No it's for some friends of ours," she replied. "We're just helping out a little, since the size of the party... well, it got away from them, just a bit. Anyway, one of the birthday girls is apparently _quite_ a fan of your restaurant, and she suggested that we look into your catering services, considering just how many guests we'll be having."

The blue-haired girl, meanwhile, had noticed Beneda standing a slight ways off. "Oh, hello," she said in a friendly tone of voice. "Do you work here at the restaurant as well?"

"No, I'm just a friend paying a visit," Beneda explained. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize when I came over that Ukyo had a meeting scheduled."

The blonde made a dismissive wave. "Don't worry about it. It's no problem at all."

"Thank you." the currently-human youma gave the two of them a grateful bow. "At any rate, it's nice to meet you. My name is Beneda."

The two young women returned the bow. "It's nice to meet you as well, Beneda," the blue-haired one said pleasantly. "My name is Kaioh Michiru, and this is Tenoh Haruka."


	2. Poor First Impressions

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** Gack. This chapter wasn't supposed to take anywhere near this long, but "real life" kept coming up and being distracting, as it usually is.

On a possibly somewhat more interesting note, however, I've also thrown together a little FAQ that has some of the questions that I've seen come up often in reviews. I used this site's forum software as a way to post it up, and you can access it via my profile if you're interested. Might be helpful, might just be old news to a lot of you guys, but I figured I'd mention it.

* * *

Chapter Two: Poor First Impressions

"Wait, so you're saying that you've never actually had any of Ukyo's okonomiyaki yourselves?"

Haruka smiled, leaning back in her chair a little. "Not yet," she admitted, in response to Beneda's question. "Like I said, we're here on the advice of a friend. We don't live nearby, and it was the first time we'd heard of this place."

"But you do come very highly recommended," added Michiru. "According to her, this is 'the best okonomiyaki restaurant, ever'."

That prompted a laugh from Ukyo. "High praise!" she exclaimed. "I'll do my best to live up to it."

The four young women were seated around one of the tables of Ukyo's restaurant, chatting in a relaxed fashion. Ukyo had invited them in, and they had fallen to small talk before getting down to their ultimate business.

"So, Beneda..." Haruka asked, curiosity in her voice. "That's not a Japanese name. What country are you from?"

It wasn't _just_ the young woman's name, of course. Her features weren't Japanese either, her face exotic in a way Haruka couldn't quite place. And then there was her silver hair as well. All combined, it made her quite the striking figure.

"Ah, yes," Beneda replied. "I get that a lot. To tell you the truth... I'm actually Spanish. I came to this country a few years ago to study Japanese traditional medicine, and I've been here ever since."

"Really?" put in Michiru. "Your Japanese is excellent; you barely have any accent at all. That's very impressive for only having been here a few years."

Beneda laughed, though it seemed a little strained for some reason. "Thank you," she said. "Though it's not that _I'm_ particularly good with languages myself. The ones who originally taught me Japanese had... special methods that most people don't have access to."

Haruka and Michiru exchanged quizzical glances, but then Ukyo coughed and spoke up, quickly changing the subject. "So! Is there anything I can get for you while we discuss the details of the job? Something to eat, or maybe some tea?"

"Some tea would be wonderful," Michiru said. "Thank you."

"Well, I suppose that means I should be going, then..." Beneda told them, even as she began to rise from her seat. "I wouldn't want to intrude on your discussion."

"No, no, it's no intrusion at all!" was Haruka's quick reply. "You shouldn't feel like you need to leave. The business part of our discussion shouldn't take too long—and I'd hate to lose such charming company over just that." Despite herself, a slight flirtatious undercurrent slipped into her voice, eager to talk more with this intriguing foreigner.

To Haruka's right, Michiru cleared her throat pointedly, and the blonde knew that said undercurrent had not escaped the other girl's notice. _I'm going to be hearing about this on the way back..._ she thought ruefully. Even so, when Michiru spoke to Beneda it was with grace, and without any ire directed at the girl herself. "Yes, there's no need for you to leave on our account. I would enjoy sharing some tea with you as well."

Beneda and Ukyo glanced at each other, and then the okonomiyaki chef nodded vigorously. "It's settled, then!" she said. "Why don't the three of you sit down, and I'll be right there."

Which is exactly what they proceeded to do. Beneda led the two guests to a nearby restaurant table, while Ukyo prepared a teakettle for their use, filling it with water and preparing to bring its contents to a boil.

* * *

Glancing back and forth at the houses on either side of him, Ryouga trudged down the sidewalk while munching on some takoyaki he'd picked up from a street vendor a while back. The setting sun was staining the sky a dark orange, casting shadows everywhere, and he knew that before long he should start looking for a place to set up camp for the night.

His stint at the construction site had ended a few days ago, but it had lasted longer than usual—almost two full weeks. He'd managed to earn a fairly decent sum, by his standards, before he'd gone to use the restroom by himself and ended up in Fukushima. Fortunately, though, he usually took the precaution of working with his backpack on, so he wasn't bereft of all his supplies.

Still, he was left with the question of where to aim for now. He could try to get back to the construction site, but he didn't hold out much hope of finding it again before the project was complete. On the other hand, he could always try to get back to Nerima, to see how his friends there were doing.

Of course, regardless of which one he aimed for, his warped directional sense might just as easily take him to the other, so deciding on a destination beforehand was mostly irrelevant. He would just keep walking, as always, until he found a reason to stop. Nevertheless, _choosing_ where he was trying to reach ahead of time gave him some feeling of control over his path, even if it was only just an illusion.

Either way, he steeled himself for a long trek. Whenever he managed to keep himself in one place for an extended period like he had just done, it was usually followed by an extra-long stretch of wandering before he found himself anywhere familiar again. If he was any judge, it would probably be weeks before—

"Ryouga! _Hey, Ryouga!_"

The lost boy stopped, blinked, and turned around. His eyebrows went up at what he saw. There, jogging up behind him, was Ranma. The nineteen-year-old fighter was wearing black pants and a Chinese-style shirt—this particular one white as opposed to his more common red. The pigtailed young man grinned as he approached his rival. "Hey man, it's been a while. You doing all right?"

Ryouga couldn't decide whether this was a good omen or a bad one. On one hand, he was glad to be—apparently—back in Nerima. On the other hand, he very seldom found his way from one place to another this easily... and he had noticed that on the few occasions he _had_ done so, it usually ended up meaning that he was there just in time for some conflict or catastrophe. Was he walking toward another one even now?

"Hey, Ranma," he replied. "I've been doing fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. I found some work for a while, and when I wasn't doing that I was either walking or training."

"Training?" Ranma asked, his tone carefully casual. "What kind of training?"

The lost boy shrugged. "For a while I was experimenting with the Shuchu Arashi again, trying to make it precise enough to hit smaller targets. Didn't work, though. It's just too damn cumbersome to be worth using on anything more agile than Pantyhose Taro. Aside from that, I mostly just worked on refining my control of the Toi Bakusai Tenketsu and the Ikazuchiken."

"Ah, gotcha," was Ranma's reply—and for some reason he seemed very much relieved to hear Ryouga's answer. Soon, though, that look gave way to a cocky grin. "Still, training off in the woods by yourself will only take you so far. Feel like giving it a more... practical test?"

In spite of himself, Ryouga returned the smirk. If there was a more enjoyable way of distracting himself from thoughts of what the future might hold than trying to beat Ranma senseless, he hadn't found it yet. "I wouldn't mind a quick spar."

"Didn't think you'd have any objections," said the pigtailed fighter. "C'mon. There's one of the old abandoned lots just a few blocks from here."

* * *

"Wait... you mean you performed in a concert with the _actual_ Three Lights?" Beneda asked, her eyebrows rising in surprise at what Haruka had just revealed about her blue-haired companion and the famous former pop group.

"Yes, and she showed them up completely," was Haruka's easy response, a smile flitting around the corners of her mouth. "At least, that's what _I_ say... though I can't claim to be unbiased."

"Well either way, you must have some amazing skill!" said Ukyo. The okonomiyaki chef was standing a ways off from the table where the other three were now sitting, watching the kettle and getting the tea cups ready while occasionally chiming into the conversation. "I heard that they hardly ever performed with any other groups or accompaniment. They must have seen something special in you."

Of course, there had been a reason why the Three Lights had almost always performed alone. Beneda had become interested in that group's songs not long after they became popular, but at first she couldn't say exactly why. It had possessed some subtle, intriguing quality to it, something she couldn't put her finger on that set it apart from most other human music. Then one day she had happened to listen to a tape of their music while in her _youma_ form... and immediately realized why it had felt so odd to her.

There had been a telepathic message embedded in their music—one tailored so that ordinary humans wouldn't pick up on it. It wasn't really tailored for youma to pick up on it either; even with her superior magical senses, Beneda hadn't been able to get more than a vague idea of what the message was. Apparently they had come from a distant planet, and were using their concerts to search for a missing member of their race.

That was, of course, why they usually wouldn't want anyone else playing with them, interfering with their message. Beneda wondered why they had made an exception for this girl. She also wondered how this girl would react if Beneda told her that she had been playing alongside three actual aliens during that concert. _Heh. She'd probably just think I was crazy._

"So are you going to play the violin professionally after you graduate?" asked Ukyo.

It was subtle—so subtle that it might have been Beneda's imagination—but the Jusenkyo-cursed youma thought that she could hear a slight wistfulness in Michiru's voice when she replied. "I'm not sure," the blue-haired girl replied. "I have... other responsibilities that I have to take into account as well. But a performer's life _is_ something that I would dearly love to experience, someday. I suppose it's just a question of what fate has in store."

Beneda frowned. Michiru hadn't really given much of a straight answer. Even so, it seemed the question had touched on something important to the girl, some regret or concern that she held. Was it related to that comment about her "fate"? She had spoken the words in an offhanded way, but Beneda got the feeling there was a deeper significance to it than she was letting on.

"Well..." the youma responded at length, looking down at her human hands for a brief moment and thinking back over the past four years of life in the human world. "I don't know if it's any consolation or not... but if there's one thing about fate that I've noticed, it's that you can never really tell _what_ it's going to be until it happens. Sometimes it's something you'd never even dream in a million years."

Michiru smiled at that—a real, full smile this time. "Yes, that's very true," she admitted. "Haruka and I have already had to learn that lesson once or twice. Perhaps it will turn out like that again."

Haruka was the next to speak up. "There's something I've been curious about for a while now, actually," she said, interest in her eyes. "You live here in Nerima, right? Is it really anything like all the rumors say? The fighting, and all the martial artists running around everywhere?"

"Well, I don't know what rumors you've heard, but I've definitely seen my fair share of fights here," said the currently-human girl. "Like... who was it last week, Ukyo? The nunchaku fighter who came by to challenge Ranma and 'prove himself' to Etsuko?"

From where she stood watching the teakettle, Ukyo made a face. Kuroki Etsuko was, after all, only the latest girl out of far, far too many to have fallen for Saotome Ranma over the past few years, joining Jing-Wei the Phoenix girl and a handful of others in an ever-growing group of nuisances whose members tended to drop by Nerima every now and then with some ridiculous plan to win Ranma's heart for themselves. "I don't remember the guy's name either," she said. "He wasn't much. _I_ could've wiped the floor with him myself, so you can imagine what a massacre it was trying to fight Ranchan."

The interest in Haruka's eyes grew, and Beneda suspected that the girl was into martial arts herself. Her ki aura didn't seem nearly as developed as the Nerima fighters' were, though. If there was one part of Beneda's training under Doctor Tofu that she had altogether excelled in, it was sensing the flow of life energy—doubtless due to some measure of carryover from her life as a youma. And while Haruka had a stronger-than-average ki reservoir, it didn't seem to be on the same level as the battle auras of the superhuman fighters among whom she had lived for so long now.

Haruka, meanwhile, had shifted her attention to Ukyo, giving her an appraising look. "Sounds like you know a thing or two about martial arts yourself."

The okonomiyaki chef smiled. "Oh, I've done a fair bit of training," she replied modestly. "Not as much as some of the others around here, though."

Even as she spoke, the teakettle began to whistle, and she removed it from the burner and turned off the flame. She then proceeded to carry the kettle and cups over to the table where Beneda and the other two were seated.

* * *

_"Heisoku no Hyo!"_

Ranma's hands strobed with brilliant golden light as he plummeted through the air, each flash releasing a burst of super-compressed ki down at Ryouga. The lost boy's only response was to raise his arms in a defensive position. He _could_ have dodged the barrage entirely... but that would have meant giving up a free shot at Ranma as he landed. Instead Ryouga weathered the pounding, as the golden energy projectiles exploded like a rain of hand grenades against his toughened hide. The attack ripped apart the surrounding earth in a violent maelstrom of debris that raged around him as he struggled to keep his footing.

And then Ranma was in range. A savage grin crossed Ryouga's face as he threw a fierce kick up to meet his falling rival. But his smile vanished as Ranma managed to latch onto Ryouga's ankle at the last moment, using that grip to adjust his course in midflight. The pigtailed fighter spun like a top through the air just over the kick, and then channeled his accumulated momentum to slam his elbow into the block that the lost boy had hastily thrown in front of his face.

The sheer force of the impact against his arms knocked Ryouga back, which allowed Ranma enough space to land. In the blink of an eye he was on the attack again, lashing out in a series of blindingly-fast blows, each strike flowing into the next, each strike setting up openings for the attacks to come. Ryouga deflected as many of them as he could, but several still slipped through, causing the lost boy to grunt slightly. Ranma kept driving him backward, their arms and legs colliding countless times every second as they each tried to gain the upper hand.

Then, in the middle of taking a step back, Ryouga saw an opening. He slammed his foot straight down, discharging a pulse of ki out the sole of his foot, and the earth erupted in a three-yard radius around him. It wasn't a huge explosion—certainly not enough to damage Ranma directly—but its purpose was something far simpler: it off-balanced the pigtailed fighter for just a split-second.

Ryouga took ruthless advantage of it. He lunged forward and drove a punch straight into Ranma's chest, sending his rival flying backward. He followed that attack by kneeling down, his finger stabbing several times into the ground at his feet. _"Toi Bakusai Tenketsu!"_

Instead of the usual series of explosions, long, jagged cracks tore open through the ground, originating from his finger and racing towards the Anything-Goes heir. Ranma managed to get his feet under him just in time to leap skyward, avoiding the blasts as each of those cracks terminated in explosive detonations of their own. With the momentum of the battle on his side now, Ryouga lunged forward to meet his rival head-on.

The next few minutes were an uninterrupted storm of strikes, blocks, parries and counter-strikes as the two of them battered away at each other with ferocious abandon. Ryouga barely even noted the passage of time, every fiber of his being focused on the fight as the two of them struggled for a decisive edge. Eventually Ryouga saw what seemed like an opening, a punch that Ranma was throwing from too far away to possibly connect—

—and then, in an explosion of ki that filled Ryouga's entire field of vision, the lost boy was blasted backward by a fist that was larger than his entire body. A second punch—this one an uppercut—knocked him several stories into the air. That brought him to just about eye-level with the enormous, Ranma-shaped ki construct that was looming over the surrounding buildings.

Ryouga had just enough time to brace himself as the construct linked its hands together, raised them high, then brought them both slamming down from above onto Ryouga's airborne form. The blow plowed into him, sending him plummeting earthward like a meteor, and his body impacted into the ground with enough force to blast a gaping crater in it.

Biting back a groan, the lost boy rolled back up to one knee, a little unsteadily. Still, there was a surge of pride that came along with it. Even just a year ago, eating a combination like that head-on probably would have more or less decided the duel, but his latest round of Bakusai Tenketsu conditioning had done its work. It had _hurt_... but he was still very much fit to fight.

_Pulling out Happousai's old trick like this..._ Ryouga thought, as Ranma raised his hands for another blow, and the ki-construct now blazing around him did the same. _It means two things: he intends to end the fight soon, and he's in a playful mood._ The huge construct was a _hideous_ drain on its user's ki, and its movements were—relatively—ponderous compared to Ranma's usual fast-and-agile methods. The Anything-Goes heir almost never used it in serious fights. In fact, the only reason he had learned it in the first place was because its long-range ki manipulation was good practice and stamina-building for... certain other, more intricate techniques.

_So he wants to play around, does he?_ Ryouga thought, as he leapt back a ways to get some distance. _Well. Never let it be said that I backed down from a challenge._ Gathering his own ki, the lost boy let out a loud battle-cry, and with another explosion of energy there was a building-sized Ryouga facing down the building-sized Ranma.

Shrouded within their enormous energy-doppelgangers, the two eternal rivals stared each other down. How many times had the two of them faced off like this over the years? Ryouga had long since lost all count. It was nearly second nature to them by now, like breathing. Sometimes fighting in all seriousness, sometimes fighting for training, sometimes fighting just for fun. The lost boy tightened his fists, anticipating what would assuredly come next.

Then, in response to an unspoken signal, they both charged simultaneously, the gigantic concentrations of energy blazing through the air as they bore down on each other with incredible momentum.

* * *

"That's fascinating," Haruka told Ukyo. "So your fighting style is based on your okonomiyaki cooking? How does that—?"

Her words were cut off, as the faint sound of a distant _boom_ reached their ears. The blonde girl blinked, her train of thought interrupted. "...wait, was that thunder?"

Ukyo took another sip from her teacup before replying. "I'm... not sure," she said at last. In truth, she was pretty sure she recognized that exact noise, and knew what—or rather, _who_—that had been. But she also knew that ordinary people from outside Nerima could sometimes get a bit... unnerved by the scale of battles that the ward saw on a regular basis, and she had decided that she didn't want to frighten off her customers. She had even toned down what she had just been telling them about her own martial exploits quite a bit, avoiding mention of the more superhuman feats of which she herself was capable. "It... did sound a bit like thunder, I guess."

"Then perhaps we should get down to business," said Michiru. "As enjoyable as chatting like this has been, it is starting to get late, and I didn't bring an umbrella."

Haruka sighed, clearly disappointed at not getting to hear more about the peculiar martial arts style. "I suppose so. Anyway, like we said, this is all for the birthday party of some friends of ours on June 30th. Would you be able to cover that?"

"I don't have any scheduling conflict for that day," Ukyo replied. "How many people are you expecting?"

"The guest list is still somewhat fluid at the moment," Michiru told her. "You can probably expect at least thirty to forty people though."

Ukyo's eyebrows went up a little. No wonder they'd wanted outside help. "Your friend is pretty popular."

Haruka and Michiru glanced at each other, a small smile passing between them. "She... has an effect on people," Michiru said at last. "Really, this is barely scratching the surface of the lives she's touched."

From the sound of it, Ukyo was willing to bet that these two counted themselves among that number. "Well, I'm looking forward to meeting her, then. Now if you could just fill out and sign these forms, providing the address the event is going to be held at, the exact dates and times, details like that..." Matching her actions to her words, Ukyo placed her standard catering contract onto the table, along with a pen. In response, Haruka rose out of her chair a little, reaching across the table for the offered documents.

And, in a display of the singular bad timing and worse luck that seemed to curiously affect those with Jusenkyo curses, it was at just that moment that Beneda had carelessly lifted her cup of steaming tea up to take a sip... putting it in the exact position necessary for Haruka's elbow to accidentally bump it, spilling a good portion of its heated contents across Beneda's wrist.

Her expression mortified, Haruka turned to look at the other girl. "_Oh!_ Beneda, I'm sor—"

But then Haruka's jaw dropped, as she found herself looking _not_ into the face of the exotic, silver-haired girl who had been there moments before... but rather directly into the inhuman, yellow eyes of a green-skinned, metallic-haired monster. Time itself seemed to freeze in place for a moment, the restaurant filled with absolute, dead silence.

Then both Haruka and Michiru leapt back from the table with surprising speed, the blonde angling to the left while her companion angled to the right. Ukyo noticed their hands reaching reflexively toward their pockets—a tiny gesture, halted almost before it began, but one that the okonomiyaki chef picked up on nonetheless.

"No! No, no, no, please don't be afraid!" called out Beneda, backing quickly away while she held up her hands, palms out. "I'm not... It's just... It's a... skin condition that I have! It just... flares up sometimes, but it's really, _really_ nothing to worry about!" By then she had backpedaled to the kitchen door, and she proceeded to duck inside. Ukyo heard the brief sound of a faucet turning on and off, and a moment later Beneda appeared again, human once more. "...see?" she finished lamely, with an entirely unconvincing smile.

Ukyo winced. Silence had fallen once again, as the two visitors stared mutely at Beneda, then turned to look at each other, then back to Beneda again. "I... see..." Michiru said at length, not taking her eyes off the silver haired girl.

"Yeah..." murmured Haruka. "Really... interesting." There was strained silence for another few seconds. Then, slowly, Haruka walked back over to the table. She was trying her best to appear casual, but Ukyo could read the wariness in her every movement. The blonde picked up the pen and the forms, and set to work filling them out. The sound of pen on paper was the loudest noise in the room until she had finished.

Ukyo noticed that the other girl hesitated slightly before filling in the address, something that was usually second nature for most people. Which probably meant that she had written in a fake one. The okonomiyaki chef suppressed a sigh. They were trying not to let on, but Beneda's monstrous appearance had clearly frightened off this pair of clients. They were just going through the motions now, probably out of fear that they might be attacked otherwise.

Once Haruka had finished, she offered the papers to Ukyo with a passable smile. "Here you are."

"Thanks." Ukyo accepted the forms with a smile of her own, though it was about as empty as Haruka's.

"Well, we really must be going," spoke up Michiru from her position a ways back from the table, her voice tight. "As I said before, it is getting late."

"Of course," replied Ukyo. "Sorry to keep you this long."

"Don't worry, we don't mind," was Michiru's response.

The two of them then backed their way carefully toward the door. As they exited, Haruka offered a parting wave. "See you around."

* * *

Outside, Haruka and Michiru walked for about two blocks in silence before they slowed to a stop. "So," Haruka said at last. "A skin condition."

"That was no skin condition," responded Michiru quietly. Both of them knew all too well what it was they had really encountered back there. The memories were fragmented, from another time, another life, but they were enough. Among the clearest remembrances of the Silver Millennium that they possessed were their remembrances of its fall. And of the creatures that had participated in it. "That was a Dark Kingdom youma."

Haruka nodded. Truth be told, she was still surprised that they had gotten out of the restaurant so easily. She had expected some kind of attack after seeing what they had seen, but she was glad that they had avoided battle. Needing to transform right in front of their enemy was something she definitely preferred to avoid.

"But how did one of those things end up _here?_" wondered the blonde, perplexed. "Metallia should be gone, and any remaining youma should be sealed back in the Dark Kingdom again. Could the Princess have missed one, somehow?"

"I'm not sure." Michiru's frown deepened. "But right now I'm not worried about _how_ that youma got here... so much as _what_it's been doing here. And if there are any more of them."

"You're right," agreed Haruka. "For all we know, Ukyo could be one too. She certainly didn't seem very shocked by the transformation."

"She could be." Then Michiru sighed. "Or she could be under the youma's control. We just don't have enough information."

"Then we need to figure out what that thing's game is," the blonde girl declared. "How about we keep watch on that restaurant, and see where it goes when it comes out?"

"Yes. Let's do that," said Michiru. "With a little luck, we should be able to get to the bottom of exactly what's going on here."

Moving as one, the two young women made their way off into a deserted side alley, away from prying eyes. They each pulled out a transformation pen, feeling the waves of magic swirling around them as they called out their activation phrases.

_"Uranus Star Power, Make Up!"_

_"Neptune Star Power, Make Up!"_

* * *

Ryouga stood, bent over, his hands resting on his knees as he panted for breath. Across from him, Ranma was in much the same position. Impressive though the giant-size aura technique might look, it took a _lot_ out of its users. Beyond their initial, explosive collision the battle had lasted for less than a minute before exhaustion had set in and they'd ended up stopping.

At length, Ranma glanced up at him. "Call this one a draw?" he offered.

The lost boy briefly pondered going a few more rounds. He was pretty sure he had it in him, if he pushed it, and for a moment he weighed the extra exertion against the possibility of laying Ranma out flat. But in the end, he decided that this was enough. It was getting late, after all. "Sure."

The Anything-Goes heir pushed himself back upright. "All right then. You hanging around the area? I know Beneda's been asking around after you; she'd probably feel less worried if you said 'hi' before taking off again."

"Of course." Then Ryouga pushed himself upright as well. "But... why would she be worried about me?"

Ranma shrugged. "You know... the whole Akari thing? Her getting engaged? I think she was afraid you'd get all depressed and do something stupid."

The lost boy let out a long, tired breath. Well, he supposed that given his emotional track record that kind of worry was understandable enough. And the news _had_ hurt, even after all these years. But it was in the past now—the long-dead past of a different life, one that had been erased everywhere except in his memory. "I didn't do anything stupid," he assured Ranma. "I was just... working. Training. Trying to forget."

"Yeah, well..." Ranma threw him a sidelong glance. "I think 'training' _was_ part of what she was worried about. And really, she wasn't the only one." Ryouga frowned, puzzled for a moment by Ranma's words... but then he realized just what kind of training his rival meant.

"I promised all of you that I'd never use _that_ technique again," the lost boy replied quietly. "Did you really think I'd go back on what I said just because I heard some bad news?"

The Anything-Goes heir looked away uncomfortably. "We just weren't sure, that's all," he said. "I mean... I didn't _really_ think you'd start experimenting with it again. But then... I don't know what possessed you to think up a technique like that in the first place either."

Ryouga looked away as well, leaving silence between them. He didn't know how to explain his reasons to Ranma, not in a way that the other boy could really understand. But at the same time he felt a sudden need to try. "Do you remember the time we fought the Death Phantom?" he asked at last. "Do you remember what he said to me, when he was trying to work that mind magic?"

"Not exactly," responded Ranma. "He was mostly just talking a bunch of crap about you, right?"

"He said that it was inevitable that I lost Akane and Akari," Ryouga recited, his eyes staring off into the distance. "He said that I was a shiftless vagabond, with no prospects. No future. He said that I was a rabid beast, only fit for battle and destruction."

"Well so what?" asked Ranma. "Wait... are you saying that magic he was using is still messing with you?"

Ryouga shook his head. "No. Nothing like that," he said. "Magic has nothing to do with it. It's just that..." He hesitated, then let out a deep breath and continued. "Just that there wasn't anything he said to me back then that I didn't already know was true."

Silence greeted that last admission. The lost boy could feel Ranma's worried eyes on him, and immediately regretted voicing those thoughts aloud. He decided to change the subject as fast as he could. "Anyway, we should get going. If Beneda is worried about me then I want to see her as soon as I can."

"...all right," replied Ranma. It sounded like he still wanted to say something more on the matter to Ryouga, but wasn't sure what it should be. "Let's head back to the dojo first. You can drop your stuff off there, and call up Tofu's clinic to see if she's in."

Ryouga nodded, and felt his mood brighten a little at the thought of seeing Beneda again. It had been too long since they'd had the chance to simply sit down and talk, to catch up on how each others' life had been going. That, at least, was a bright spot worth looking forward to.

* * *

Beneda hung her head as, about ten minutes later, she walked out of Ucchan's. _How could I have been so careless?_ she berated herself. _That probably cost Ukyo her contract. And that stupid excuse I used... I really couldn't think of anything better?_ She had apologized profusely—and Ukyo had told her again and again not to worry about it—but she still felt guilty.

The currently-human girl sighed. She had grown too used to the Nerima mindset, that was part of the problem. Given what the denizens of this ward saw on a regular basis, having her monstrous form accidentally revealed wouldn't have been _too_ big a shock for most of the people she encountered day to day. Still, she really _should_ have had a more convincing explanation ready for visitors who didn't necessarily have such a... unique perspective on life.

But even so, she could only stew in self-recrimination for so long. There wasn't much she could do about Ukyo's lost opportunity now, and eventually her thoughts turned to what she was going to do next. She had originally planned to go back to Doctor Tofu's clinic, but while they had been talking she'd heard a distant noise that sounded suspiciously like two people colliding enormous battle auras into each other full-force. Which meant that there was a good chance that Ryouga was back in the area, and was having it out with Ranma yet again. If the lost boy had returned, she definitely wanted to hear how he had been doing.

Decision made, Beneda altered her course, heading not back to the clinic, but toward the Tendo dojo. That would be where Ranma would take Ryouga once they were finished, and therefore it was her best chance at meeting up with him. The prospect of meeting her often-absent friend did lighten her spirits a bit, though thoughts of her mistake still vexed her.

That was probably why she was almost halfway to her destination before she sensed that she was being followed.

It wasn't obvious, but between her natural affinity for life energy and Doctor Tofu's rigorous training she still picked them out. Two people, about a block behind her, moving across the rooftops just out of sight. Beneda stiffened, but tried to act natural as she continued to walk onward, her mind racing. Who were they? And why were they trailing her?

At first she wondered if it might not be a coincidence. Maybe they were lurking around for some other purpose, one that only happened to bring them on a similar path. But when she found an excuse to pause for a while—looking into a passing shop window as though she were interested in the items on display—the mysterious presences paused as well, then resumed moving as soon as she did. Whoever they were, _she_ was clearly their objective.

She told herself to stay calm, tried to keep her heartbeat under control. After all, this was probably nothing. Most likely it was just another crazy plan cooked up by some of the innumerable local martial artists. But why her? She tried her best to keep a fairly low profile, and had mostly avoided the innumerable grudges and duels and love polyhedrons which entangled so many others in her social circle.

Then another thought struck her. Maybe she _wasn't_ the objective. Not the ultimate objective, anyway. Maybe someone was gunning for Ranma or Ryouga yet again. Maybe they were following her, hoping she would guide them to their target.

Well if they thought she would play along with that, they could think again. She wasn't about to just lead them right to her friends at the Tendo dojo. Rather, this was a perfect chance to figure out just what was going on here, _before_ it came crashing down on their heads like it so often did.

The currently-human girl walked on for a few more blocks, watching the rooftops out of the corner of her eye, trying to catch a glimpse of her shadows. A few times she thought she saw someone's face peeking up just barely into view, but she never got a good look. Eventually she decided to employ a different tactic, and casually strolled into a small convenience store off to her right.

She browsed through the aisles until she was sure she was out of view from the street... then broke into a run. She dashed past a few bewildered customers, then vaulted the main counter and ran right by a cashier who was too slow on the uptake to even try to stop her. Without pausing she ducked into the "Employees Only" area, and after sprinting through a tight hallway, burst out a rear door into the alley behind the store.

_Doesn't seem like they've noticed me..._ Beneda thought. The ki presences hadn't moved or reacted during her swift action, and so she decided to make the most of the chance. This was a perfect opportunity, before they figured out that she'd slipped their net. _Let's see who these people are. If they are looking to start trouble, any kind of forewarning could help us._

She crept down the alley, using the buildings as cover, until she had reached a point where she could cut across the street she had just been walking down. _If they're still watching the store, I ought to be able to sneak around behind them,_ she told herself. _I'll just take a quick look to see what it is we're dealing with. Then I'll head back to the Tendo dojo, and let Ryouga and Ranma know what's going on._

In her youma form she could have easily jumped to the rooftops in a single leap, but despite her training, her human form didn't quite have the physical strength necessary yet. It took her a trio of hops, first ricocheting off a wall, then springing off a small awning, and from there landing on the roof of one of the taller nearby buildings—a good vantage point from which to observe her mysterious followers. She crouched low, moving with all the stealth she possessed as she crept toward the edge of the roof, peering over it and looking down at where she sensed the two presences originating.

Then her blood immediately ran cold. It was no local martial artists that she saw watching the convenience store. Rather, it was two figures clad in the unmistakable uniforms of the Sailor Senshi.

Beneda licked her lips shakily, her heart hammering in her chest. _They found me,_ she thought. _After all these years, they finally caught up with me._ The incongruity of her being their target was a mystery no longer. This was no simple martial arts rival. It was her own past that had come knocking this time.

_But what do I do?_ she asked herself. Running back to the Tendo dojo was her immediate reaction, but she hesitated, uncertain. _As far as I know, I'm the only one they've found. If I bring Ryouga and the rest of them back into this, and things go badly like they always do, they might end up fighting the Senshi again. And Sailor Moon has her full strength now._ Could she risk putting her friends in the path of someone with enough power to tear whole planets asunder? Or should she try and settle this herself, plead with the Senshi on her own, without involving anyone else?

The problems between her friends and the Senshi had been, after all, entirely on account of her deception to begin with.

She was so caught up in her struggle over what to do that she almost missed when the two Sailor Senshi began to move. _They must be getting suspicious,_ Beneda thought. _But still, as long as I stay hidden, I should be able to think this through and..._

That line of thought trailed off, as she saw the blue-haired Senshi take out a small object and held it in her hands. Squinting, Beneda managed to recognize it as a golden hand mirror, even as the reflective surface lit up with a magical glow. The currently-human girl's eyes widened in fear as she—too late—realized what was happening. _That must be some sort of scrying artifact!_

_She's about to find me!_

A burst of fight-or-flight adrenaline washed over her, causing her to scramble back away from the edge of the roof. Her first, panicked instinct was to run, but she knew she could not escape two Sailor Senshi in her human form. Even had she been in her youma form she probably couldn't have pulled it off. No, she had to stand her ground, had to try and somehow explain all this. That was the best chance left to avoid another needless battle between the magical warriors and her friends.

Before she could think any further, a blur of yellow, blue and white slammed down onto the rooftop directly in front of her, resolving into the figure of the blonde Senshi. "Invited by the new age," the warrior intoned, as she rose from her crouch and looked down at Beneda, eyes flashing with challenge. "The magnificent Sailor Uranus."

"Likewise..." came a voice from behind her. The currently-human youma looked back over her should, just in time to see the blue-haired Senshi finish alighting there. "...invited by the new age, the elegant Sailor Neptune."

_They're part of the Outer System Senshi!_ Beneda thought, her eyes widening as she realized just who it was she faced. Sailor Uranus, for her part, began to close in on Beneda—as, with a flash of yellow light, a short, curved sword appeared in the Senshi's hand.

* * *

Ukyo paced back and forth behind the long grill of her restaurant, ill at ease for reasons that she herself could not put a finger on.

It wasn't the almost certain loss of a client that was troubling her. With the proceeds from the usual operation of her restaurant she could easily afford the loss, and if those two had a problem with how her friend looked then she didn't care all that much for their patronage to begin with. No, there was something else, something more fundamental and serious that was nagging at her, something worse than her customers getting scared off by Beneda's appearance.

Then Ukyo halted, her brow furrowing. _No,_ she thought. _No, that's not quite right._ Playing the sudden encounter over in her mind again, she realized that there _hadn't_ been any fear in either of the young women's reactions. Shock, yes. Caution and wariness, yes. But it hadn't been actual _fear_.

Her worry only increased as the pieces started fitting together. It wasn't just that they hadn't been afraid, she realized. It was also the way they had reacted, the practiced deftness of their defensive movements. Ukyo thought back through the encounter yet again. _They weren't just trying to get away from Beneda,_ she thought. _They weren't running for the door, or even running straight backward. The way they broke off at an angle from each other... that would have been perfect for catching her in a crossfire between the two of them._

A dark suspicion began to build in Ukyo's stomach. She had no proof, of course, but if there was one thing she had learned to trust over the years it was her instincts, and those instincts were currently screaming at her that something was very wrong. She thought back over their encounter one last time, and as she did something else jumped out at her. The words of their friend who had recommended her restaurant to them. That her place was "the best okonomiyaki restaurant, ever!"

And as she thought back on it, one single realization occurred to her. _That sounds just like something Usagi would say._

Ukyo swore viciously under her breath, no doubt remaining in her mind. _"Konatsu!"_ she shouted at the top of her lungs.

The name had hardly left her lips before the genius kunoichi was there, kneeling in front of her. "Yes, lady Ukyo? What is it?"

"Beneda might be in trouble," replied Ukyo in a clipped voice. Her stomach was clenched with worry but she didn't allow it to show, focusing instead on delivering the crucial information as fast as she could. "She had her youma form revealed, and I think the two girls who were here might have been with the Sailor Senshi. Go search the route between here and Doctor Tofu's clinic, and make sure nothing happened to her!"

Konatsu's response was a single nod, and then he vanished again in a blur of motion. Ukyo, meanwhile, raced over to the phone and began to dial the number for the Tendo dojo.

* * *

Ryouga and Ranma had walked most of the way to the Tendo home in silence, each of them mulling over their own thoughts. When the building at last appeared before them, Ryouga picked up his pace, eager for the chance it offered to take off his pack and rest for a little while from his endless travels. But even as they approached, the front gate burst open and Akane came running out, a worried expression on her face.

"Akane?" Ryouga asked, frowning. "What's wrong?"

The youngest Tendo whirled to face them. "It's Beneda!" she said urgently. "I just got a phone call from Ucchan's. Beneda got splashed by hot water accidentally, and Ukyo thinks some of the Sailor Senshi might have seen it!"

Ryogua's eyes widened, his heart clenching in his chest. Any thoughts of rest were burned from his mind in a burst of sudden panic. There was no time to waste; he had to get to Ucchan's as fast as he could! He dropped into a crouch, preparing to leap for the rooftops—

—only to have Ranma, of course, grab him from behind and drag him in the opposite direction. "_This_ way, moron!"

In seconds, the two of them were shooting from rooftop to rooftop at a dead sprint, leaving Akane behind as they raced toward Ucchan's with all the speed of which the two young warriors were capable.

Ryouga could feel his battle aura blazing hotter and hotter, his hands clenching into fists as he concentrated on keeping up with Ranma, while at the same time searching the city ahead for any sign of Beneda. Foreboding filled his stomach, but he ignored it and pressed forward. He had to get there in time. He had to!

* * *

Sailor Uranus studied the human-seeming girl who had so recently revealed her true nature. The disguised youma was scrambling back across the rooftop away from her, fear in its eyes. Not a surprising reaction; even before the Senshi had attained their "Super" form, just one of the Outer Senshi would have been more than a match for any Dark Kingdom lackey.

Now it was time to get some answers to these mysteries. Sailor Uranus reached down with one hand, dragging the youma to its feet and raising the Space Sword so its point was at the creature's throat. "What are you doing in this world?" she snapped. "How did you escape being sealed? _Is Metallia still alive?_"

"No!" blurted the youma, raising empty hands, eyes transfixed on the blade. "No, no, she isn't, I swear! It's just me. I'm the only youma left on this side of the portal."

The blonde Senshi digested this for a moment. The youma didn't seem to be lying—unless it was an exceptionally good actress. "Then what's so special about you?" she pressed, deciding to follow that line of interrogation. "How _did_ you escape the Princess's seal? And why? Are you supposed to open the portal from this side? To let the rest of your army back out?"

"It's nothing like that!" the human-seeming girl protested. "You have to believe me. I wouldn't even know where to begin doing something like that, even if I wanted to!"

"Are you trying to tell us you _don't_ want to?" asked Sailor Neptune, skepticism in her voice as she walked around to look their captive in the eyes as well.

"I _don't!_" The youma's protest was earnest and desperate. "_Please!_ This isn't any kind of plot, or scheme, or... anything! Metallia is gone, the Dark Kingdom is no threat... I'm just trying to make a life here, like any of you!"

Sailor Uranus considered the youma's claim. It was nothing she would ever have expected to hear from the mouth of a monster. And yet... it did actually make a certain amount of sense. She had only ever faced youma as enemies, but with their demonic Queen now destroyed, what _was_ left for them but to find some new place in things? It was a possibility, at least.

Even so... "What are you doing for life energy, then?" Sailor Uranus asked. "It doesn't matter about Metallia if you're still preying on the humans around you."

The youma shook its head as much as it dared with the Space Sword still pressed against its throat. "I don't even need to steal life energy anymore!" it told them. "The magic I use to change my form... it's more than just a youma's disguise power. I really do _become human_ when I use it!"

Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune exchanged skeptical glances. On the face of it, the claim seemed farfetched. Then again, normal youma disguises didn't break just from getting tea spilled on them either. There was something else going on here, something outside their experience. And the situation was looking far less open-and-shut with each passing minute.

"She... hasn't actually _done_ anything wrong that we've seen," Sailor Neptune said eventually. It was true. Even in their civilian identities, they hadn't been drained during their time at Ucchan's. Nor had they been attacked, not even after learning Beneda's secret. Kind words, not violence, were the only things they themselves could truthfully claim to have received from her.

Preposterous though it sounded, could this youma really have settled down into ordinary life in the human world? The blonde Senshi looked deep into Beneda's eyes—into the fear filling them—and discovered that she was starting to have a hard time seeing her as just a monster, rather than the girl they had so recently been sharing tea and conversation with.

_I have been spending entirely too much time around the Princess,_ thought Sailor Uranus. _It's starting to affect me._

The blonde Senshi sighed. She was by no means convinced of everything that Beneda had told them. Not yet. But it did make a surprising amount of sense, and she found herself honestly hoping that it was the truth. _We still need to get the full story of how all this happened from her,_ she thought. _And we should probably bring in Sailor Mercury to scan the people around her to make sure she isn't controlling them in some way._

_ Still, she really doesn't seem like much of a threat. I suppose that, at the very least, there's no need to keep holding her at swordpoint like thi—_

Then the thunderbolt struck.

There was no warning at all. One moment Sailor Uranus was focused on Beneda. The next moment, a blur of yellow and black slammed into the rooftop next to her with furious velocity. Before she could react, she felt a hand clamp onto the wrist of the hand holding her sword and wrench it away from Beneda. Then, with a roar of rage, the figure's other arm swung around in a punch, one that felt like getting hit in the rib cage by a sledgehammer travelling at super-sonic speeds.

Her body jackknifed and went flying back off the edge of the building and all the way across the street, until she landed on the roof of the building on the other side. Though "landed" might have been a somewhat generous term for the end-over-end tumble as she rolled her way to a stop.

_"Sailor Uranus!"_

That was Sailor Neptune's cry. It was followed almost immediately by a shout from their attacker of _"Shi Shi Hokodan!"_ and the sound of a detonation. Sailor Uranus felt a jolt of fear shoot through her, and she forced herself painfully back up to one knee, clutching at her side as she did so.

To her relief, Sailor Neptune seemed to be unharmed. There was a smoking hole in the roof where the blue-haired Senshi had been standing a moment before, but she'd had more time to react than Sailor Uranus and had managed to leap away in time. Their assailant now stood protectively between them and Beneda, a young man with short black hair, dressed in somewhat ragged clothes, with unbridled fury burning in his eyes.

Gritting her teeth and biting back the pain, Sailor Uranus raised one hand high, and golden energy began to crackle between her fingertips in preparation for her World Shaking. But even as she prepared to launch her attack, she saw a second figure land on the rooftop beside their attacker, this one a young man with a short black pigtail. And looking past him, she noticed someone else leaping across the rooftops toward their location as well, a short-haired girl of about the same age. And over there, converging from a different direction, was Ukyo herself, also jumping from building to building.

The Senshi let out a soft hiss of breath. It didn't look good. In moments they would be outnumbered five to two, and she was already injured. _Who are they?_ she wondered. _More disguised youma? I can't remember the last time I was hurt this bad from just a punch..._

She exchanged a quick glance with Sailor Neptune, and both of them decided that at this point, discretion was the better part of valor. The two of them leaped away, bounding between the rooftops themselves, joining up with each other and angling away from the mysterious attackers before their full forces could arrive and hem them in. Whatever was actually going on here, it was clearly something _much_ bigger than just the one isolated youma that Beneda had tried to claim she was. Right now, the first priority was to warn the others, so that they could deal with this from a position of strength.

Accordingly, they made their escape. The first attacker—the boy with the yellow-and-black headband—bared his teeth and moved as though he intended to chase them. But the pigtailed boy grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him, while saying something that the two Senshi were by now too far away to hear.

There were no other attempts at pursuit.

Soon they had left the Nerima ward behind, and only then did they pause and turn to each other, breaking the silence they had kept since the abbreviated clash. "So... what now?" ask Sailor Uranus, fighting to keep the pain out of her voice.

"We need to tell Sailor Pluto," was Sailor Neptune's response. "Maybe she will know what all of this is about. Maybe she will know what to do."

* * *

Ranma eyed Ryouga carefully as the Senshi beat a hasty retreat, making sure that he wasn't going to let his anger get the better of him and do something stupid. The lost boy had _not_ been happy when he'd seen the two magical girls holding a sword to Beneda's throat, and Ranma didn't want this situation to get any worse than it already was.

For his part, Ryouga took a few deep breaths, then his eyes widened and he whirled back to Beneda. "Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling down by where she now sat. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

The currently-human youma shook her head in the negative, still looking a little shaken from rapid turn of events. Ranma, for his part, was already considering what this meant for them. "Come on," he said at last. "Let's get her back to the dojo. She'll be safe there. We can figure out what to do next after that."

Ryouga nodded, even as Akane and Ukyo alighted on the rooftop next to them. The five of them looked at each other, the reality of the situation starting to sink in for all of them now that the urgency and adrenaline of the moment had passed.

Their secret was out. Once those two reported back what they had seen, the rest of the Sailor Senshi would realize that they were still alive. After all the years of trying to stay off the radar of the magical girls, their old "Dark Lords" ruse was about to catch up with them.

Now it was time to pay the piper, and only the future would tell what that cost would be.


	3. Heard in Secret

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** Hey guys, I've gotten a number of questions regarding Pluto's role in all of these shenanigans, and I just wanted to make sure I clarified a few things about her powers/abilities. I put a slightly longer answer in the Dark Lords of Nerima FAQ (which you can get to via my author profile) but the short version is that fanfiction has kinda added a bunch of powers to Pluto over the years that don't really show up in the original anime canon.

The Gates of Time (in-series) aren't ever shown to be able to scry on arbitrary points in history, nor able to watch anyone's life story, TV-style. They're solely a transportation device. Pluto does know _some_ details about the future (probably because she's talked with people _from_ said future) but she doesn't know everything... and the future is now diverging from what she'd expect anyway since there's a time-traveler in the equation, so pretty much _all_ bets are off now.

Anyway, hope that helps with explaining why she doesn't just automatically know/learn all the details of what's going on and clear up all the misunderstandings instantly. And, with that said, hope that you enjoy the chapter, and that you have a Merry Christmas!

* * *

Chapter Three: Heard in Secret

No one spoke much as the group of young martial artists made their way back to the Tendo dojo, walking together in the near-dark of late evening. Ryouga wasn't sure what thoughts were going through the others' minds, behind their troubled expressions; he only knew that his own blood was still boiling from seeing that Sailor Senshi with her blade at Beneda's throat.

It was eventually Ukyo who broke the silence. "Who _were_ those two?" she asked. "They weren't any of the Sailor Senshi from four years ago, and I didn't recognize them back in the restaurant either, when they didn't have their disguise magic going."

The question seemed to shake Beneda out of her thoughts, and she glanced up. "They said they were Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune," she told them. "That would make them part of the Outer System Sailor Senshi. I didn't even realize that they had been reborn into this era as well."

"Outer System?" asked Akane. "How are they related to the Sailor Senshi we fought?"

Beneda's eyes lost focus a little, and Ryouga could tell that she was reaching back into her memories. "All I know are the old youma legends," she said, her voice taking on a reciting tone. "But supposedly, according to the stories from back then, they were the warriors tasked to defend the far borders of the Silver Millennium from threats originating outside the Solar System. The Senshi _you_ fought, on the other hand, were Senshi of the planets closer to the Sun. Their role was to act as bodyguards for the Moon Princess."

"Huh. So how does this new bunch stack up against Sailor Moon and her friends, then?" asked Ranma.

The currently-human youma shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. The stories say that the Outers tended to be more powerful than their inner-system counterparts... and also more ruthless. But that's all legend from millennia ago; I don't know how accurate it is."

"They seemed ruthless enough to me," growled Ryouga, his expression dark. "They'd just better not let me catch them coming after you again—or they won't get off so easy next time."

At that, Beneda looked over at him. "No, it wasn't as bad as it looked!" she hurriedly assured him. "And considering their history with the Dark Kingdom, it only makes sense that they wouldn't trust me. I mean... they weren't _happy_ to see me, but they didn't hurt me, even when they could have. Sailor Neptune was even trying to convince Sailor Uranus to put the sword away before you got there."

Ryouga clenched his teeth. Part of him knew that she was right—that it made sense for the Senshi to be suspicious—but the anger and fear from seeing his friend in that position refused to leave him. Noticing that, Beneda moved directly in front of him, looking him right in the eye. "Ryouga, you have to listen to me. This is all just a misunderstanding, and we have to _work it out_. Not make it bigger. Okay?"

The lost boy drew in a deep breath, forced himself to listen to Beneda's words, then let it out in a sigh, some of the emotion and adrenaline leaving along with it. "All right," he allowed at last. "All right. I promise I won't go running after them half-cocked if I see them again. Not unless they start something first, anyway." And, truth be told, if Sailor Neptune _had_ been standing up for Beneda back there, then he probably owed the Senshi an apology for trying to blast her with a Shi Shi Hokodan like that.

A part of him still dearly wished that he could go a few more rounds with Sailor Uranus, though—Beneda's words notwithstanding.

"Look, let's all just get back to the dojo," broke in Ranma. "We can figure out what to do after we're someplace safe, and we've all had a chance to cool our heads."

"Right," Akane agreed. "Really, we should just be able to explain to the Sailor Senshi what's going on, and what really happened back then. If we do that, I'm sure we'll be able to work things out without too much trouble."

* * *

By the time they made it back to their house, now untransformed, Haruka was definitely feeling the pain from where that fighter had sucker-punched her, and the long trip back had only made it worse. She clenched her teeth, holding her side gingerly as she leaned on her lover, but otherwise tried her best not to let on just how much her ribs were hurting. Michiru was worried enough as it was.

As they approached, Haruka saw that there was a light on in the living room, and that a familiar silhouette was just barely visible through the drawn curtains. They were in luck. Sailor Pluto had come on one of her periodic visits. Though it wasn't luck entirely; she had been keeping a noticeably closer eye on them—along with the rest of the Senshi—ever since Chibi-Usa had come back from the future.

And it seemed now that those concerns had borne themselves out.

"Let's go," the blonde forced out, as they made their way down the last remaining feet of sidewalk. "We need to find out if there's anything she can tell us about all this."

Michiru nodded without comment, continuing to guide the other girl up the stairs and through the main door of their home. The two of them made their way through the hallway and into the living room, where they came face to face with Meiou Setsuna, the civilian identity of Sailor Pluto.

She was dressed not in her sailor seifuku, but rather in a blouse and skirt, over which she wore a light, businesslike jacket. Her long green hair trailed down behind her, reaching down to knee-level. The older woman looked the two of them up and down, a brief frown of worry crossing her normally-impassive face. "What happened to you?"

"We were hoping that you could tell us," was Haruka's response, as Michiru helped her over to a nearby chair and she sank gingerly into it. "We ran into someone interesting today, when we went to arrange the catering for the party. A Dark Kingdom youma, disguised as a human."

Now there was definitely no mistaking the flash of surprise and puzzlement that crossed Setsuna's face, neither of which were common emotions for her. "A... Dark Kingdom youma? Are you certain?"

"Absolutely," spoke up Michiru. "I even consulted the Deep Aqua Mirror, though we both knew what she was without it. There is no mistake."

"A Dark Kingdom youma..." murmured Setsuna, as though saying it a second time would cause it to make more sense. "But how could it have escaped the sealing?"

"You mean you don't know anything about this?" asked Haruka. "From how things went in the future?" Setsuna was usually very cagey about just how much knowledge she had concerning the course of events, but she looked well and truly puzzled at what they had told her.

"No," answered the green-haired woman simply. "Neo-Queen Serenity never mentioned anything like this to me. This encounter was a change to the timestream; you never would have gone on that errand had it not been for the Small Lady's party."

Haruka and Michiru glanced at each other, unsettled. So whatever this was, they would be going into it blind. Eventually, Setsuna spoke again. "How did it manage to injure you? At your current level of power a single youma should be hardly any threat at all."

"Oh, _she_ wasn't a problem," said Haruka. "But she had friends. I don't know if they were other disguised youma or not, but whatever they were, they managed to jump us from behind while we were trying to question the first one." She then proceeded to give a more detailed account of just what exactly had happened from the beginning, along with descriptions of the different players.

Setsuna listened to it all in silence, without interrupting. Once Haruka had finished, she spent a few more moments in contemplation, and then spoke. "So. We face a completely unknown group, with unknown goals, comprised at least in part of former enemies."

"Do you think this group could be related to those grey monsters that the Princess and her Senshi fought off a few weeks ago?" asked Michiru.

"It's certainly possible," Setsuna agreed. "It's also possible that they are completely separate and unconnected. We simply do not know."

The three Senshi digested that. It was Haruka who spoke up next. "So what's our response?"

"At the moment, the most important thing is to warn the Princess and Small Lady of these developments," Setsuna replied. "After all, Usagi and her friends were the ones who faced the Dark Kingdom down four years ago, and if there are still any youma remnants active, revenge may be on their minds."

Haruka nodded. "Yes. And there's one thing that has me worried. When she recommended that okonomiyaki restaurant to us, Usagi mentioned that she _knew_ the owner personally. Now, it might be a coincidence that the youma was at that one particular shop... but it might not be."

Even the thought that the Princess's identity might possibly have been compromised was a sobering one, and Haruka could see the effect on the other two. "I will visit her immediately," Setsuna told them, then turned and began to leave. She paused, though, just before exiting the room. "And while I do that, you should call Professor Tomoe. Ask him to send Hotaru over to your care for the foreseeable future."

Both Haruka and Michiru's eyes widened a little at that. "Is that really necessary?" asked Michiru. "I understand that this is an uncertain situation, but... do you really expect that it will require _her_ power?"

"I don't know," replied Setsuna. And just for a moment, the older woman let her guard down. "_I don't know._ And right now, that frightens me more than anything else."

* * *

Ranma leaned back against the inner wall of the Tendo dojo as he sat, staring out at nothing in particular as he pondered their next move. "So let's see if I've got this right," he announced at length to the other people in the training hall. "We're _pretty_ sure these 'Outer' girls ought to take orders from Usagi... but they're also kinda known for acting on their own too."

"Right," agreed Beneda, looking up from where she sat on the dojo floor. She had changed back into her stronger youma form on reaching the dojo; she probably felt safer in it, now that the value of her human form as a disguise was mostly gone. "Still, all things considered, if we can convince Sailor Moon that we don't mean any harm then she should be able to call them off. I think that will be our best course of action."

"Do you really think she'll believe us?" asked Ryouga, his expression skeptical. "Think about it: the last time we met, we were threatening to kill her and her friends, and then enslave the whole world. That doesn't put us in the most trustworthy position."

The pigtailed fighter shrugged. "Yeah, I know. But we gotta at least try. I figure I'll just lay it all out for her, and see how she reacts. Drop by where she lives and explain it all, tell her why we did everything we did. Then we'll see where it goes from there."

Ukyo winced. "You might not want to go right to her house, Ranchan," she suggested. "The last thing we want to do right now is put them any _more_ on edge about us. I don't know if we should let on yet that we know her real identity."

"Good point." Ranma thought for a moment, then continued. "All right, then how about this. Tomorrow morning I'll head over to Juuban and... I don't know, get their attention somehow. I'll think of something. Anyway, that'll let me talk to them as Sailor Senshi. If Sailor Moon believes me, great. If not, then I'll beat it back here and we'll think of something else."

"I could come along too," offered Ryouga. "Just in case things get ugly."

Ranma shook his head. "No. I'm just going to talk, not to make a showdown out of this. The fewer people the better. Besides, if I do end up having to run, it'll be faster if I don't have to keep dragging you back on the right track every five seconds."

The lost boy grumbled a little, but there wasn't much he could say against Ranma's point. The pigtailed warrior, for his part, rose to his feet and stretched. "Well, anyway, you should probably stay the night over here, Beneda. We can put you up in Akane's room. It'll be just like old times."

Not that he actually _expected_ the Sailor Senshi to try an attack in the middle of the night, of course. But still... it never hurt to be careful.

* * *

With a theatrical sigh, Aino Minako flopped over onto her back, her long blonde hair pooling around her as she stared up at the ceiling of the Tsukino home. "Finally!" she announced to the world at large. "At least that part's done. I didn't realize how much work a party like this would be!"

"We still have to write the last few invitations," reminded the voice of steadfast responsibility, personified in the form of Mizuno Ami. The blue-haired girl looked down at the sheet of paper in front of her, frowning in thought. "Usagi, what about Akiyama Miharu? That little kendoist girl that you and Chibi-Usa made friends with during the Dead Moon Circus invasion? Did you want to invite her?"

Across the room Usagi looked up, pausing in the good-natured bickering that had been going on between her and Rei for the past ten minutes—even as the latter was combing the former's hair, which had been temporarily let down from its usual twin-tails. "Oh, yeah!" the young princess exclaimed. "I was talking with her on the phone a few months ago, and she said that she was getting ready to challenge some really strong guy that she'd found named... 'Tatewaki', I think? It'd be great to talk with her again in person and see how that went!"

"I hope she's still getting along with her mother," added Chibi-Usa, from where she sat between Ami and Minako. "It'd be too bad if they started fighting again."

"I'm sure they're doing all right," said Kino Makoto. The brown-haired civilian identity of Sailor Jupiter was sitting on the other side of Minako, near to the door of the bedroom. "You two really helped them understand each other better. The rest of it is up to them."

The six girls were sitting in a loose circle in the middle of Usagi's bedroom, with a semi-organized spread of papers, cards and envelopes on the floor between them. Despite Ami's efforts to keep them on task, the planning session had gone far later than originally intended, and it was already dark outside. Still Minako wouldn't have it any other way. They would get everything done eventually—they always did—and the chance to sit here exchanging girl talk with her friends was worth any number of late nights to her.

And speaking of girl talk, this seemed about as good a time as any to drop the juiciest tidbit that she had been saving. "Oh, as far as invitations go..." she said with feigned casualness. "Would you mind if I brought along a guest of my own?"

Immediately, all eyes in the room were riveted on her. She hadn't said much, but despite her attempt to disguise it, they all knew _that_ tone of her voice. "Who is he?" demanded Makoto.

The silly smile Minako had been struggling to suppress broke free of its restraints entirely. "His name is Yori," she said, leaning forward toward her friends, her eyes fairly gleaming with eagerness. "He's a second-year college student, studying to be an artist! I've had my eye on him for almost a week now, and I'm just about ready to make my move."

Chibi-Usa gave Minako a flat look, which the blonde summarily ignored. "So you haven't actually _talked_ to him yet," the younger girl said, not sounding impressed.

Makoto, for her part, let out a frustrated sigh. "You're lucky," she said, sounding annoyed that Minako had gotten the jump on her this time. "I haven't even _seen_ anyone like that around lately."

"Don't worry so much about it," said Ami, trying her best to be comforting. "There's still plenty of time for... things like that. We're still just seventeen, after all."

"She's right," added Rei, her own tone more lecturing. "A boyfriend would be _nice_, of course... but we shouldn't _need_ one to be happy."

Minako made a face. "Easy to say, for the girl who has a boy running around at her every beck and call."

"Wha—?" the raven-haired girl spluttered. "For the last time, Yuichiro and I are _not_ like that!"

"Suuuure you aren't," replied Minako in a sing-song voice—then whirled to point a finger directly at Usagi, who had just opened her mouth to speak. "And I don't even want to _hear_ anything from the girl with a prince from her previous life."

Usagi responded with a guilty—though still irritatingly satisfied—smile. With those two silenced, Minako turned back to Ami, then hesitated. She actually wasn't sure _what_ the quiet girl's situation was.

Ami met her gaze with a wan smile of her own. "I'm not... with anyone," she offered, before Minako could say anything. "But like I said, it's not anything to worry about. It's just... something that isn't happening right now."

Makoto was frowning in thought as Ami spoke, then suddenly snapped her fingers. "Hey—what about that one guy? What was his name? You know... the one from four years ago who had one of the Rainbow Crystals? It looked like you two got along really well together. You should try to hook back up with him again. Maybe even see if Luna can restore his memories of that time!"

But instead of looking pleased by the idea, Ami's face fell at Makoto's words. There was a pained, uncertain silence that stretched on, until at last the blue-haired girl spoke. "That isn't necessary," she told them, her voice quiet. "Ryo... remembered that year on his own. His psychic abilities helped him. Just like they helped him before, to remember his previous life as a youma."

The other girls exchanged glances. The previous mood of joking and jibing had sombered at the sadness they could hear in their friend's voice. Eventually, Usagi spoke up. "What happened, Ami?" she asked, as she reached over to place a comforting hand on the other girl's knee.

Ami shook her head, her expression stricken. "I... It's not... I'm sorry. It's just not something that would do any good to talk about now. I shouldn't have even mentioned it."

Usagi looked as though she were going to inquire further, but their conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the room. A moment later the door opened, causing Chibi-Usa to let out a surprised "Puu-chan!"

For it was indeed Meiou Setsuna who had just walked into the room. Her expression was impassive as always, but Minako thought that she detected a faint air of tension about the green-haired woman that was not usually present. Something was up.

"Small Lady," the keeper of the Time Gates acknowledged with a nod. Then she turned to all of them. "I have come to give you a warning. There are... strange events afoot, and you should be on your guard. Haruka and Michiru encountered an unexpected threat earlier this evening when they went to visit the okonomiyaki shop that you suggested. There was a Dark Kingdom youma there."

All of their eyes widened at that, in a combination of surprise and puzzlement. This wasn't news Minako had expected to hear, nor was this a foe she had ever expected to face again. But adding to the peculiarity were the reactions of Rei, Ami and Usagi, who were looking at each other as though the news had some special significance in their minds.

In Ami's case, surprise quickly gave way to a thoughtful, worried frown. "A youma..." she murmured. "At _Ucchan's_, of all places. You don't suppose it could be related to..."

"Did they happen to say what the youma looked like?" Rei pressed Setsuna, her gaze intense. "It... didn't have green skin, did it? Or silver hair, kind of metallic-looking?"

Setsuna blinked. "That is almost exactly how they described the creature."

"No _way..._" breathed Usagi. "I thought she was dead?"

"We never actually saw it happen," Rei responded. "Maybe she faked it somehow. Or maybe..." She paused, and then her eyes widened a little. "Maybe someone else _brought_ her back." The dark-haired girl looked back up at Setsuna. "Did Haruka or Michiru mention seeing anyone else nearby? They'd probably look human. Maybe a boy with black hair and a pigtail?"

Now Setsuna was starting to look truly flummoxed. "Someone matching that description did show up as well. Along with another young man wearing a yellow-and-black bandanna. They attacked Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune, forcing them to flee."

"It's _them_," Usagi intoned ominously, while Rei and Ami nodded in agreement. "They're back."

"Who?" asked Setsuna, looking back and forth between the three girls. "_Who_ is back?" Minako, for her part, was starting to feel like her world was being tilted at a forty-five degree angle, as the fundamental roles of the universe reversed themselves. _Usagi_ was making mysterious, cryptic pronouncements, while _Setsuna_ was trying her best to make sense out of them!

"The Dark Lords of Nerima!" was Usagi's answer. Then, upon seeing the blank expressions of everyone except Ami and Rei, she backed up and explained in more detail. "See, the thing is... these guys that Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune found... we already fought them once before."

Setsuna frowned. "Neo Queen Serenity never mentioned anything about such an incident to me."

Usagi shrugged helplessly at that, unable to speak for her future self. "Well... it wasn't really _that_ big of a fight, I guess. Not compared to everything that happened after, with Metallia and Death Phantom and the rest. It only went for a couple of days before we beat them."

"When _was_ this?" broke in Makoto, no longer able to hold back her own curiosity. "I don't remember any of what you're saying either!"

"It was during the early stages of the Dark Kingdom crisis, back when it was Jadeite who was opposing us," explained Ami. "But _those_ enemies weren't in league with him. In fact, by the time we got involved they had already been fighting against each other for a while."

So that, at least, explained why it was only those three among the Senshi who knew about it. It did not, however, satisfy Minako's interest. "So what happened? Who were they?" the blonde girl asked.

"Conquerors," was Rei's grim answer. "They were an invasion force from some kind of... parallel universe or alternate dimension, and they said they were here to enslave ours. Of course, we couldn't let them do that, and the Dark Kingdom didn't want any competition either."

"As best we could tell, the green-skinned youma you described defected from her original masters, and joined the Dark Lords' side," added Ami. "She seemed to be important to their plans somehow, though we never discovered why. It all came down to a final battle, during which we learned that their ability to exist in this world depended on a magical artifact they were using."

"And when I broke the bowl, they just _exploded_ right then and there!" put in Usagi. "Except... I guess it didn't really kill them after all." Minako detected a note of quiet relief in the princess's voice; despite whatever they had done, Usagi was clearly glad to learn that their defeat had not been fatal.

"It probably just sent them back to wherever they came from," was Rei's opinion. "And now they've found a way back to our world. Which means they're probably here for the same reason they were before."

Minako and Makoto glanced at each other. Both of them were still largely lost at this point, but the basics, at least, were clear. They faced a resurgence of a threat to the people they held dear, to the planet they were charged with protecting. Minako might not understand any of the specifics yet, but this was far from the first time they had faced a situation like this. If these "Dark Lords" wanted to come back for a second try... well, that just meant that now Sailor Venus and Sailor Jupiter would get a crack at them too.

"I see..." Setsuna, for her part, had regained most of her poise. "I would like to hear about these battles in more detail. Any information you can give me about these adversaries may prove important."

"Of course," was Ami's prompt reply. "We'll tell you everything we can remember."

Usagi sprang to her feet. "I'll go find Luna!" she told the rest of them. "She was there for it all too, so she might have some things to say about it."

Setsuna nodded, even as she moved to sit down with the rest of the Sailor Senshi, who moved to make room for her. Minako's gaze, however, followed Usagi for a moment as the blonde girl hurried toward the doorway of the room—

—and then, without warning, she stumbled in mid-step, pitching forward a little until she caught herself on the doorframe. Her other hand went to her chest, as though in response to a sudden pain. _"Usagi!"_ Minako shouted.

The rest of the Senshi whirled at Minako's cry. But Usagi was already straightening up, the fit—or whatever it had been—passing as quickly as it had come. "Sorry, sorry," she told them, waving her hands a little. "I've just been feeling a little bit short of breath lately. I guess I've just been working too hard on this birthday party stuff."

Minako frowned, not sure what to make of what she had seen. But before she could say anything, Usagi darted off on her self-appointed mission, leaving the Senshi of Venus with yet one more troubled thought weighing on her mind.

* * *

Later that night, Ranma stood in the middle of the Tendo yard near the koi pond, his open hands raised in a fighting stance. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and rhythmic as the cool night breeze whispered around him. For minute after minute he stood there, silent, unmoving. In that near-meditative state, he could sense the flow of ki all around him, however minute. In the grass, in the nearby tree, in the fish swimming in the pond.

Then he exhaled, and reached out. Carefully, delicately, extending a tiny amount of his own ki and spreading it across the area so that it mingled with the life energy of everything else nearby. It was long-distance ki manipulation, like when he formed one of his building-sized ki constructs around him, but far more subtle and complex. His aura slowly merged with those of the living things around him as he manipulated it to match, his brow furrowing in intense concentration.

Then he stepped back into a deeper stance, moving his hands in a slow, flowing arc. The grass bent as though blown by a sudden gust of wind, travelling through the yard in a circle around him. Except there was no such wind, no movement of the air to cause it. He repeated the movement, in the opposite direction this time, and again the grass flowed to match. Next he pushed his hands straight forward, making the grass ripple out toward the exterior wall surrounding the yard, then pulled his hands back, drawing the ripple back toward him.

He repeated the motions many times over, sometimes slower sometimes faster. One minute flowed into the next, until he had lost all track of time. Eventually, with the mental strain increasing, he finally released the technique with one last push, making the grass flow outward from him in every direction. He drew in a deep breath, let it out, then looked down at his arms. They were twitching and spasming, his nervous system thrown out of coordination by what he had done. _Not good enough,_ he thought. _Still way too much feedback from such a low intensity exercise. I'm going to have to work on it more._

"Practicing your Tenryu Tonan?" came a soft voice from the direction of the house. Ranma turned to look at Akane, sitting in the doorway leading to the house, watching him. He hadn't noticed her approach; his technique required such intense concentration within its area of effect that his sixth sense was practically blind to anything outside that while he was using it.

"Just the basic exercises," he answered. "Helps me clear my mind." Then he sighed. "Not going to be very much use if we end up fighting magical girls, though. They don't have big enough ki auras to do the really interesting stuff with. And until I get the feedback problem fixed it's pretty much suicide to use the full version against more than one opponent at a time anyway."

"Do you really think it's going to come to that?" Akane asked. "Fighting the Sailor Senshi again, I mean?"

Ranma shrugged. "When's the last time _you_ remember us getting out of a mess like this without it finding some way to blow up in our faces first?"

His observation caused the ghost of a smile to cross Akane's face. "There's a first time for everything..."

"Maybe. We'll see. Just don't expect me to hold my breath."

For a moment Ranma regarded his fiancée, then took a few steps closer to her. "Hey... is everything all right? I mean, you know, except for the obvious stuff. It feels like something's bothering you." It was something he had noticed in her demeanor for the past few days, in fact, even before any of this business with the Sailor Senshi had started. This was just the first quiet moment where he'd had the chance to ask her about it.

Akane got up from where she sat in the doorway, and walked out into the yard, her body language suddenly uncomfortable. She turned away to look out at the koi pond, before finally speaking. "It's Shampoo," she said. "After the last match we had, she told me that she'd seen us. At the park, the week before last. Doing... you know. What we were doing." A faint blush tinted her cheeks at the last.

Ranma felt an added weight settle in his stomach. Some part of him had known that this would happen eventually, even if he hadn't wanted to admit it. Surrounded by as many high-level marital artists as they were, sneaking around like that was bound to get them found out sooner or later. "How did she take it?"

"I'm not sure. She was warning me about what would happen if we ever... went through with it. Actually got married. She said that she would have to kill me, but... it sounded more like she was intending to die herself."

The pigtailed fighter clenched his fists. Those damned Joketsuzoku laws. "I'm _not_ going to let it come to that," he promised. "Not for you. Or for her."

"I know," was Akane's reply. "That's what I told her too."

"I'll come up with some way to make it work," Ranma continued. "Even if I have to go to China and take it up with Cologne and their whole stupid council. There has to be some way out of it. Some loophole we can use, or... something."

"Let's hope so," Akane said, her expression still pensive. Ranma couldn't really blame her. The obstacles against them being together openly did look pretty insurmountable as things stood. Still, he refused to give up on it. There had to be a way, even if he couldn't see it right now.

Ranma opened his mouth, trying to find the right words to reassure her. But before he could say anything, the sound of a crash came from inside the house. Both of them frowned, then turned and moved in the direction from which they'd heard it. _Who'd be making noise like that at this hour?_ Ranma wondered. _Sounded like it was coming from the kitchen._

The two of them entered the house, jogging down the hallway with Ranma in the lead. Soon he reached the nearest entry to the kitchen area, and opened the door, rounding the corner to see...

...Kasumi, dressed in a nightgown, who was kneeling down by one of the lower kitchen cabinets, apparently fishing around inside for something. She quickly closed the cabinet door and rose to her feet as Ranma entered, Akane right on his heels. "Kasumi?" he asked. "What happened?"

"Oh my! Ranma!" she said, sounding a bit startled. "I was just doing a bit of late-night cleaning, and I knocked over a few dishes on accident. I'm sorry for the racket." She pointed behind her, and Ranma saw that there were indeed several plates lying scattered on the floor where they had evidently fallen.

Ranma laughed, feeling a bit of relief seep into him. For just a moment there, he'd been worried that the crash had been something more sinister. _This whole Senshi thing must have me wound even tighter than I realized,_ he thought. _I'm even jumping at random noises now._ "Nah, don't worry about the noise," he said aloud. "It's not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay, that's all."

"Why thank you," was Kasumi's smiling reply. "But... what were you two doing up so late at night yourselves?"

Ranma and Akane glanced at each other. "Just... talking about how we're going to deal with the whole Sailor Senshi situation," he told her. True, it hadn't been the _only_ thing they'd been talking about, but their relationship worries were far more private than he felt like sharing. Even to Kasumi.

"That's good to hear," Kasumi responded. "I'm sure it will all work out somehow."

"That's what we're hoping," put in Akane. "Anyway, don't stay up too late. No sense in running yourself ragged."

Kasumi nodded. "I won't. I'm already done with almost everything I really wanted to do, so I'll probably be heading up to bed in just a little bit."

"All right," Akane said. "See you in the morning, then!" With that—and a wave—Akane turned and walked back toward the main stairway, with Ranma following behind her.

The two of them ascended to the upper floor in silence, and Ranma walked her to her room. He could tell that she still wanted to finish the conversation that had been interrupted out in the yard. She paused in the hallway just outside her door, turned to face him, and then spoke. "Do you really think this is going to work, Ranma?" she asked in a small, quiet voice. "Do you really think we'll ever be able to be together? Not sneaking around like this, but for real?"

Ranma sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I... Akane, I can't promise what will happen, or how it'll all work out. But I can promise that I'm not going to give up on it. Sooner or later... I _am_ gonna marry you." He blushed a little as he spoke the words; even now, they didn't usually talk about marriage so directly, but he'd felt the need to make it clear.

His fiancée gave him a shy smile, and reached out to take his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. "It's the same for me. Still... sometimes it just seems like things are getting worse instead of better." She let out a rueful laugh. "I mean, even the numbers are getting worse. When we tried to do it four years ago we only had _three_ girls that were trying to stop us. Now just look at how many there are."

Ranma winced, thinking back to that ill-fated wedding attempt himself. It had been a mess, and that right on the heels of their victory over Saffron at Jusendo. How much more of a fiasco would such an attempt be today, with not just Shampoo, Ukyo and Kodachi, but also Jing-Wei the Phoenix girl, Kuroki Etsuko, and that crazed kunoichi seductress Miki?

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he agreed. "Still, you know the _real_ reason things fell apart back then didn't have anything to do with the ceremony getting attacked. The reason it didn't work out is that we just plain weren't ready for it ourselves."

Akane gave Ranma's hand a quick squeeze. "At least we won't have to worry about that next time."

The pigtailed fighter smiled. Even now, he could hardly claim to be an expert on this whole "actually being a boyfriend" thing. Half the time he still felt unsure of himself, like he was feeling his way along in the dark. But more than anything else, it was moments like these, moments of quiet togetherness, that made him certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this girl.

He reached up a hand and traced it along the side of Akane's face, brushing a few errant strands of hair back into place. "Believe me, I'm ready," he said, his voice thick with longing. "And yeah, it'll probably take a while to get things straightened out with Shampoo and Ukyo and the rest, but we'll figure that out eventually too." Then he chuckled. "At least, as long as Sailor Moon doesn't vaporize us all before then."

Akane rolled her eyes at Ranma's dry crack. "Like I said, I _really_ don't think it'll come to a battle," she insisted. "We just have to convince them that we're not actually trying to take over the world. If they believe us then we should be able to avoid a fight altogether."

"That's _if_ they believe us," Ranma reminded her. "But yeah, of course it's worth a shot. I just don't think it's going to be that easy. It never is."

"Such a pessimist..." replied the youngest Tendo.

Ranma laughed. "Well, whether they believe us or not, it doesn't change anything," he said. Then he put both his hands on Akane's shoulders, looking right into her eyes. He knew it had to be rough on her, watching all those other girls fawn over him on a near-daily basis while having to hide their own relationship, not knowing when or if they could ever make it official, and with one failed attempt at a wedding already behind her. So he tried to hit those doubts head-on.

"We're going to do this," he told her. His words were quiet, but he put all the conviction he had into them. "Someday, somehow, it's going to work out, and I am _never_ going to give up until it does. And next time..." He took a deep breath, then plunged forward. "It isn't going to end like it did four years ago. That's a promise."

Akane nodded, her eyes tearing up a little. Then she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Ranma and burying her face into his chest. Ranma's arms shifted to encircle her as well, one hand gently stroking her back as he savored the feel of her against him. And, despite everything else that was going wrong, or probably would go wrong in the future, right in that moment he counted himself the luckiest man alive.

* * *

Hours before that conversation took place, Luna paced up and down the length of Usagi's bedroom. The moon cat was trying to make sense of this most recent development, even as Usagi was changing into her pajamas and preparing for bed. The other Sailor Senshi had by now already departed.

When Usagi had first told her the news, Luna's reaction had been one of shock. After all that had happened, after all the ever-escalating threats they had faced... to think that they were now being confronted by these foes from so long ago. Questions ran back and forth through her mind. How long had they been back in this world? And what were their plans this time around?

It would be conquest again, almost certainly. But they knew none of the details. Just how close were they to re-creating the ritual that the Senshi had barely managed to stop the first time?

Setsuna had grilled all the involved parties—Luna included—going over the past events in as much detail as they could now recall. They had explained all they could, but the Senshi of Time had looked more confused at the end of the wild tale than she had at the beginning. She had promised to relay the information to the other Outer Senshi, though. Together, the two teams should hopefully be able to come up with a battle plan.

"Luna..." At the quiet voice, the black cat looked over at the dumpling-haired young woman who was both her liege and her precious charge. Usagi's expression was a troubled frown. "What do you think is going to happen? I mean, with the Dark Lords being back?"

"We'll have to fight them, most likely," was Luna's measured reply. "I know things were dangerous last time, but you're all _far_ stronger than you were back then. And this time, it won't just be you, Rei and Ami fighting them either."

"Are you sure that's the only way?" Usagi pressed. "What if that youma Haruka and Michiru talked to was telling the truth? What if they really _aren't_ trying to hurt anyone?"

"Then why would they even return to our world in the first place?" countered the moon cat.

"I... don't know," admitted Usagi. "But they might have had a reason. And we only found them by accident to begin with! Even Setsuna said that this was a change to the future, because of Chibi-Usa coming back, right? So if they're really trying to summon a big army again, then why didn't they attack us in the future with it?"

"Maybe something else interfered with their plan," Luna said. "Maybe the Great Freeze happened before they could put it into effect, and they retreated back to their own universe. Maybe their empire moved onto other targets while the earth was frozen for a thousand years."

"Or maybe that isn't their plan anymore!" the blonde girl urged. "We have to at least try to talk to them, Luna. Try to see if we can't work something out."

Luna hesitated, then nodded. "Of course we'll try to reason with them," she agreed. "I just... don't want you to get your hopes too high. Not everyone is like Galaxia, Usagi. Some people choose to be evil because that's just the way they _want_ to be."

"I... know," said the young princess. "But we have to _try_. I'm sure that there's some way we can get through to them without having to kill them. Some way we can convince them that fighting and conquest isn't the answer."

The moon cat could only nod, as fresh worries filled her thoughts. Not only for how the upcoming confrontation might turn out, but also for what effect it might have on Usagi. The kind-hearted girl had never held any love of battle at all, and the final confrontation against Sailor Galaxia had solidified it even further. Seeing all the pain and devastation that the conflict had caused, she had refused to even fight back against her opponent, instead allowing the corrupted Sailor Senshi to attack her again and again, until at last Usagi had managed to use her love and compassion to pierce the Chaos twisting Galaxia's mind and free her from it.

It had been an awe-inspiring and humbling victory, but Luna was afraid of what might happen if Usagi tried to repeat it against someone without the core of goodness that Galaxia had still possessed. It would be nice to trust what the youma had told the Outer Senshi. But it could also be a trick, one perfectly suited to what Usagi so desperately _wanted_ to believe. And based on what Luna had seen of the "Dark Lords" and their goals the last time they had fought, she suspected the latter.

Eventually Usagi climbed into her bed, and soon fell asleep. The moon cat watched over her princess's slumbering form, the sheets rising and falling with the young girl's steady breathing. The more Luna thought on the looming threat of another battle, the more she found herself desperately wishing—and not for the first time—that she herself had the power to fight Usagi's foes head-on, to take more of the burden off the shoulders of this child who had already done so much.

Except... maybe there _was_ something else Luna could do, something beyond sending the girls into battle and supporting them as best she could. A role suited to a smaller, less powerful creature. Turning toward a window that they kept unlatched for just such purposes, the moon cat nudged it open with her nose and leaped outside into the night.

From there, Luna raced toward the nearest subway station. There were not as many passengers riding at such a late hour, and what subway personnel were still on duty weren't paying very close attention. The cat managed to slip aboard the train she wanted without anyone noticing, except for a rumpled-looking salaryman who wearily raised his eyebrows a little on seeing her sneak aboard, but otherwise ignored her. Then the train jolted into motion... and with that she was headed toward Nerima.

If Usagi wanted to see if that youma had been telling the truth, then Luna would find out for her.

The train ride gave her a little more time to reflect on her plan, to hammer out the details of what she was going to attempt with her investigation. There were three main locations in Nerima that she knew had been connected with the Dark Lords at one point or another: three possibilities where she could gather information. As restaurants, Ucchan's and the Nekohanten would doubtless be locked up right now, making them poor choices for surveillance.

But there was also the Tendo home, the very first place that Gosunkugi's information had sent them to all those years ago. If Ranma and Ryouga had re-established their hold on Ucchan's, they might have done so at the other locations as well.

Either way, the ideal time to spy on them would be right now, while they were still reacting to being found out, before they'd had a chance to relocate their operations or otherwise change their plans. Luna might not be able to fight, but she could at least try to learn what the Dark Lords intended to do now. And if—as Luna fully expected—their intent was still to harm her girls, then knowing the details of their latest scheme might prove invaluable in thwarting it.

As soon as the train had reached the appropriate stop, Luna raced back out again with all the speed her feline form could provide, and made for the Tendo home. It took longer than she would have liked. Her memories of their initial trip were far from perfect, and she had to do a considerable amount of backtracking and meandering in the general direction that she recalled.

Eventually, though, she arrived at her destination, leaping up on the outer wall that surrounded the compound. From there, she surveyed her target.

The building was different from how she remembered it. When she had been here last it had been abandoned, its structure severely damaged by what they later deduced had been a Dark Kingdom attack. Now, however, it was completely intact. It was also mostly dark, except for one lighted window that Luna could see on the upper floor. Fortunately for Luna's efforts, it seemed that not everyone had turned in for the night yet.

And sure enough, upon reaching out with her senses, she detected a locus of dark magic coming from the upper floor as well, one that she recognized instantly as the sign of a youma.

The moon cat made another leap, sailing from the top of the wall to land on a branch of a nearby tree. From there, she leapt atop the smaller building linked to the main house—probably the dojo Gosunkugi had mentioned. She then raced across the roof of the passage connecting the two structures, then jumped once again, managing to reach the roof of the first floor, where it surrounded the smaller second floor. Her claws scrambled for purchase against the tiles, but she managed to secure herself and make her way—carefully—around toward the lighted window.

As she got closer, Luna realized that the youma presence was coming not from the lighted room, but rather from the room immediately before it. She crept up to the nearest window, peeking up over the sill and looking in.

It was, in fact, a bedroom, one that seemed to belong to a girl based on its furnishings. Luna's attention was immediately drawn to the floor, where a figure lay sleeping on a floor mat in the middle of the room. If there had been any doubt from Setsuna's description, it was removed now, as she saw with her own eyes the very same youma that they had encountered all those years ago.

The windows were shut tight, however, and there was no easy way in. Nor would a sleeping subject be much use in obtaining the information she sought. Accordingly, the cat slunk further along the rooftop, until she reached the lighted window. Peering into that one, she saw that it was another bedroom, this one occupied by an—apparently—human girl. She was sitting bent over a desk, her back to Luna, and seemed to be studying various college textbooks.

_Hmmm. That seems normal enough,_ the moon cat thought. It was, if nothing else, a point of hope—however small and circumstantial—for Usagi's theory that the youma had been telling the truth, that they had turned over a new leaf and were trying to live ordinary lives in this world.

The one curiosity, from what Luna could make out, was that the girl seemed to be using thousand-yen bills as her bookmarks.

The moon cat watched for a little while, but it soon became clear that there was no further information to be gained. She continued on her way, to the third and final room on that side of the house. It, like the previous two, was a girl's bedroom, but in this case the room was both dark and apparently unoccupied. There was also one more difference between this room and the previous ones.

This room's occupant, whoever it was, had left their window ajar.

_A bit trusting for a villain, isn't it?_ thought Luna, surprised. But after a moment's consideration, she decided to seize the opportunity. Wedging her paws into the gap, she forced it open enough so that she could squeeze through and into the building itself.

She crept across the room, looking back and forth for anything important, but noticed nothing useful. Soon she had reached the far wall, and a much more serious obstacle: the door.

It was closed, but there was a bookshelf next to it that she estimated might allow her to reach the doorknob. She leapt atop it, then leaned herself precariously out into space, digging both her forepaws into the knob to catch herself before she tipped completely off, while she attempted to turn the infuriatingly round and smooth object.

She let out an irritated hiss as it refused to comply. For all the incredible abilities beyond mortal ken that she had witnessed in her lifetime, for all the phenomenal magic powers she saw unleashed on a regular basis... there were times like these when it was the power of _thumbs_ that she most wished she possessed.

In the end it took a fair bit of wrestling, but finally, with one last, frustrated wrench, she managed to twist the knob enough to swing the door open and leap through. Now she was in the heart of their compound, and would have to be particularly careful. There was no telling what lay in wait for her.

She glanced down the hall to her left, and saw two other doors, clearly leading into the two other bedrooms she had already observed. But the hallway also branched off to the right from a place further down in that direction, and Luna decided to investigate that way. Her decision quickly led her to another room, this one having a much easier _sliding_ door, for which she breathed a quiet thanks. Working her claws in between the door and frame, she slowly slid it open a crack, just enough to peer through and see what was on the other side.

Her eyes widened. There were two figures sleeping on floor mats inside the room. One—a bald, heavyset man—she didn't recognize, but the other she knew all too well. It was one of the self-proclaimed Dark Lords. The one named Ryouga.

Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be much else of interest in the sparsely furnished room, other than yet one more confirmation that they faced the self-same foes from last time. She watched for a few more seconds, then backed away from the door. Then, after some further searching of the upper floor with no results, she crept down the stairs to the lower level. _There must be someone else still awake somewhere..._ she thought. _The bed in the room I came in through was empty, at least. I just have to find them._

Her wish was granted sooner than she expected, as upon emerging from the stairs and looking down the hallway to her left she saw two people. One was a girl with short hair, who was sitting in a doorway that lead outside. She seemed to be watching the other figure, who was further out in the yard, and performing what appeared to be some kind of martial arts exercises. The moon cat recognized him instantly; he was the other Dark Lord, the one who had called himself Ranma.

Luna crept to a safer hiding place, peeking out from around the corner further down the hall, and continued to watch for a while, trying to analyze what the pigtailed warrior was doing, but with little success. Eventually, though, she decided to complete a quick circuit of the rest of the house before heading back here. She wasn't learning anything useful as things stood, and she didn't want to miss anything important elsewhere.

The next room she tried was the most peculiar by far. It was another bedroom, but unoccupied. Its most prominent feature was several large sacks lying around, which Luna, when she stuck her head into one of them, found to contain a bewildering assortment of women's underwear of different sizes, clearly stolen. _How sick!_ the moon cat thought, incensed. _Whether they've given up on conquering the world or not, they've clearly got at least one deviant among them..._

A search of the rest of the room turned up a multitude of pornographic magazines and photographs, as well as a large number of books and scrolls. There were also a dozen or so trinkets, some of which Luna could sense had some magical properties, though she wasn't able to determine their purpose. Finally, there was a small note left by the side of the room's bed, written in a scrawl that was almost completely illegible, but which seemed to say something about a "training trip" and "more silky darlings", and was signed at the bottom with "Happousai".

For some inexplicable reason, she felt a small shudder of revulsion run through her on reading that name.

Eventually, though, she determined it was time to look elsewhere. She checked across the hallway next, sliding open the door to that room as well. It was much less interesting; as far as she could tell it was just a plain, ordinary kitchen. She looked around for a bit, poking into a few cabinets, but quickly decided that this wasn't worth her time. She was just about to turn and leave, when her ears caught the sound that made her blood run cold.

The sound of the door behind her sliding shut.

* * *

Clad in a warm robe, a modest nightgown and fuzzy slippers, Tendo Kasumi had just finished her bath, and was about to head upstairs to enjoy a good night's sleep. She had just cut through the family room and was about to make for the stairs, when she noticed something odd out of the corner of her eye. Movement. It had been tiny and barely noticeable, but she was certain that she had seen something squeeze through the door and into her kitchen.

The eldest Tendo daughter frowned, puzzled. What could it have been? She walked closer, peering in through the slight opening between door and frame. Her eyes widened at what she saw. A cat! Somehow, a stray cat had gotten into the house.

_Oh no!_ she thought. _This isn't good at all! If Ranma realizes that there is a cat in here..._ She winced, both in sympathy for Ranma's phobia, and also in anticipation of the damage that the panicking martial artist might cause to their home should things go badly.

No, there was only one thing to do. Cute though the cat was, she had to get it out of the house quickly—and without Ranma noticing. Accordingly, she slipped into the kitchen, shutting the door behind her as she prepared to try her best to catch the animal.

The cat spun at the sound, first whirling to face her, then scrambled backward, the hair on its back going up. Kasumi winced. The poor thing had clearly been frightened by her sudden appearance. "Don't run away, kitty," she said as she walked closer to it, her hands extended in preparation to make a grab for it. "I don't want to hurt you. It's just that you _really_ shouldn't be here..."

* * *

Luna let out a low hiss as the woman closed in on her, the cat backing away to try and keep the distance even as her mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this situation. She had been caught, and in the worst possible situation. Both doors to the kitchen were now shut, and while she could eventually work them open again with her paws, there was no way she would be able to do it before the woman caught her. There was nowhere to run.

_Does she recognize me as one of her foes?_ the moon cat wondered. _I don't remember seeing her in any of the previous battles myself, so it's just possible she might think that I'm only a normal cat. But... what if she does realize what I really am, and she catches me?_

Fear began to tinge the edges of Luna's thoughts. Fear, and self-recrimination at letting herself get cornered like this. She continued to back away, but she knew even without looking that she was rapidly running out of room. Her mind raced, trying to think of some way out of this, but her frantic planning was interrupted when the woman made a sudden lunging grab.

Luna managed to avoid the woman's grasping hands with a backward leap that used up the last of her space, thumping her against the wall behind. The woman made another attempt, and then another, the moon cat darting left and right, then leaping into the air and onto one of the nearby counters. But the woman continued to chase after her, relentless. Luna soon reached the end of the counter, leaping over a pile of drying dishes and out into space just in time to avoid yet another grab.

The moon cat landed, uncaught. But though her pursuer had missed her intended target, the woman's latest grab had accidentally bumped the pile of dishes that Luna had cleared, destabilizing them. With a loud clatter, several plates slid free and fell to the floor with a racket that seemed—to Luna's horrified ears—loud enough to wake the dead.

Both of them froze in place, their eyes widening. Seconds later, they heard footsteps entering the house from the direction that Luna had seen Ranma practicing. _It's over,_ she thought numbly. _I'm doomed._

To her surprise, however, the woman seemed just as distressed by this as Luna herself was. "_Please,_ kitty!" the woman whispered, her voice urgent, her eyes sincere. "Stop running away from me! _You can't let Ranma see you!_"

The cat blinked, thrown completely for a loop by the sudden, impassioned plea. Why on earth would the woman say something like that? Was it possible that Luna had misread the situation entirely somehow? She had assumed that the woman was trying to apprehend her... but now it sounded almost like the woman had been trying to _hide_ her!

For a moment Luna simply stood there, frozen with indecision. Then the woman made one last grab for her... and with no other options, Luna decided to take a leap of faith. She made no move to evade.

The woman grabbed her by the scruff of the neck, whirled, and stuffed the moon cat into the nearest cabinet at hand. Less than a heartbeat later Luna heard the door slide open, and a voice she recognized as Ranma's. "Kasumi? What happened?"

"Oh my! Ranma!" replied the woman, whose name was apparently Kasumi. "I was just doing a bit of late-night cleaning, and I knocked over a few dishes on accident. I'm sorry for the racket."

Within the darkness of the shut cabinet, Luna's eyes widened as she tried to take in this unbelievable turn of events. Kasumi _had_ been trying to hide her after all! More than that, she was actually _lying_ to Ranma to keep the moon cat's presence here a secret!

That implied many things, both troubling and hopeful. It seemed that this Kasumi did, in fact, know of her connection to the Sailor Senshi—since, of course, there would be no reason to lie about an ordinary cat. The fact that she felt the need to lie _also_ indicated that Luna was in very real danger, should the Dark Lord realize that she was here.

But at the same time, it also meant that she had an ally here, one she had not expected to find. There was at least one member of the Dark Lords' group that did not seem to hold with her masters' goals, and was willing to risk their wrath to help those who opposed them. Luna gave a silent thanks for this Kasumi's bravery.

Ranma, meanwhile, was responding to what Kasumi had said. "Nah, don't worry about the noise," Luna heard him say. "It's not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay, that's all."

"Why thank you," Kasumi told him. "But... what were you two doing up so late at night yourselves?"

"Just... talking about how we're going to deal with the whole Sailor Senshi situation," was Ranma's answer. Luna's ears perked up. This! This was _exactly_ what she had come here for!

"That's good to hear," responded her benefactress. "I'm sure it will all work out somehow."

"That's what we're hoping." The words were spoken in a new voice that Luna did not recognize. A girl's voice. "Anyway, don't stay up too late. No sense in running yourself ragged."

"I won't," replied Kasumi. "I'm already done with almost everything I really wanted to do, so I'll probably be heading up to bed in just a little bit."

"All right," said the unnamed girl. "See you in the morning, then!"

With that, the sound of footsteps receded, heading back out into the hallway and then up the stairs toward the second floor. Luna sat there, unmoving, until finally Kasumi opened the door to the cabinet again and took her out. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she told the moon cat, her voice soft. "Now let's get you out of here, before Ranma finds you."

"Wait!" Luna said hurriedly, holding up a paw. "Wait, please, before that... I need to stay here for just a little bit longer!"

Kasumi's eyes widened in shock. Luna didn't meet her gaze directly, knowing that this was an unreasonable request after everything the woman had already done for her. Kasumi had put her life on the line, and if her deceit were ever discovered, Luna couldn't imagine what retribution her masters might inflict. But at the same time—from what Ranma had said—he had been right in the middle of discussing their battle plan! Knowing that might make the difference between life and death for the Sailor Senshi, and between freedom or enslavement for the entire world.

"Please," Luna begged again, after a few seconds. "Please, I'll be careful. I won't let him see me, I promise. But this is... _so_ important. _Please._"

Kasumi hesitated, her mouth hanging open slightly... and then she blinked. "Well..." she said, hesitating. Then she seemed to make a decision, a kindly smile crossing her face. "...all right. I don't really understand, but... it sounds like this is really important to you. Just... please be careful." And with that, she set the moon cat back down on the floor.

"I will," Luna assured her. Then, moving with all the feline stealth she possessed, she followed after the two whose attention she had just avoided.

* * *

Kasumi watched bemusedly as the small black animal padded out of the room. A talking cat! Now _that_ had been a bit of a surprise.

_Could it be that she's a human with a Jusenkyo curse, like Shampoo?_ the Tendo girl wondered. Then she frowned in thought. She didn't spend very much time around Shampoo herself... but even so, she had been under the distinct impression that the Chinese girl couldn't talk when she was in her cat form. Or was she just remembering it wrong?

On the other hand, there was also the ghost cat, Maomolin who came by every now and then. _He_ could talk as well. But this new cat hadn't looked ghostly at all, nor had she been his enormous size. _Well... the more I think about it, she probably wasn't either of those things,_ Kasumi thought. _She was probably something else altogether. Goodness! It can be so hard to keep up sometimes. Ranma does have a way of attracting these sort of magical happenings, doesn't he?_

She was still worried about the cat being in the same house as Ranma, of course. But the cat _had_ promised to be careful not to let Ranma see her... and she'd just looked so very _earnest_ when she had begged Kasumi to let her go. The woman just hadn't had the heart to refuse her.

For a moment, Kasumi wondered just what it had been that was so very important to the small animal. But then she shook her head. It wasn't polite to pry into others' affairs, after all. At any rate, she was sure it would all work out in the end.

* * *

Luna slunk quietly up the stairs, hoping with all her might that she would catch up in time to hear more of the conversation that the Dark Lord had said he'd been having with the unknown girl, on exactly how they were going to deal with the Sailor Senshi.

Up ahead she could already hear the murmur of whispered voices. It was coming from around the corner ahead of her, at the far end of the hallway that adjoined to the three bedrooms. Apparently they had stopped to talk just outside the door to the bedroom that the youma was sleeping in. Luna crept right up to the corner, straining her ears to listen around it.

"...just seems like things are getting worse instead of better," were the first words she was able to make out—spoken by the girl. Then there was a rueful laugh. "I mean, even the numbers are getting worse. When we tried to do it four years ago we only had _three_ girls that were trying to stop us. Now just look at how many there are."

As the human girl spoke, Luna's mind flashed back to that fight, when Sailor Moon, Sailor Mars and Sailor Mercury had, against all odds, managed to thwart these Dark Lords' plans for the first time. From what they were saying, it sounded like they had been given pause by encountering the Outer Senshi, and doubtless they had heard that Sailor Jupiter and Sailor Venus had been added to the Senshi's number since then as well.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," responded the Dark Lord. "Still, you know the _real_ reason things fell apart back then didn't have anything to do with the ceremony getting attacked. The reason it didn't work out is that we just plain weren't ready for it ourselves."

Now _that_ revelation startled Luna. So even back then, they hadn't been fully ready to enact their summoning ritual? Apparently, they had been even luckier than they realized in managing to catch their foes at such an inopportune time...

Then Luna heard the girl speak up. "At least we won't have to worry about that next time." The moon cat suppressed a soft hiss. So. There it was. They were indeed back to their old tricks, planning on repeating that same ceremony as before.

"Believe me, I'm ready," the Dark Lord said, and Luna could hear longing in his voice. "And yeah, it'll probably take a while to get things straightened out with Shampoo and Ukyo and the rest, but we'll figure that out eventually too." Then Luna heard him chuckle. "At least, as long as Sailor Moon doesn't vaporize us all before then."

Luna frowned. So Ukyo and Shampoo were necessary to their ceremony in some way? She couldn't imagine how, but at least it helped explain why they had reestablished their operations here, in the same place they had the first time. They had clearly re-brainwashed Ukyo, and it sounded as though they had done so to Shampoo as well. At least it sounded like they were worried about the threat the Sailor Senshi posed—which was a good sign.

"Like I said, I _really_ don't think it'll come to a battle," insisted the unknown girl. "We just have to convince them that we're not actually trying to take over the world. If they believe us then we should be able to avoid a fight altogether."

"That's _if_ they believe us," was the Dark Lord's reply. "But yeah, of course it's worth a shot. I just don't think it's going to be that easy. It never is."

_So that's their plan to deal with us? Pretend to give up on their plans while continuing them in secret?_ Luna thought, amazed at the devious simplicity of the tactic. And the terrifying thing was, it probably would have worked. Usagi always wanted to see the best in people, and if this Ranma had gone to her pretending to repent—without knowing what Luna now knew—she doubted her princess would have found it in her heart not to believe him.

"Such a pessimist..." replied the girl.

At that, Luna heard the Dark Lord laugh. "Well, whether they believe us or not, it doesn't change anything," he said. His words were quiet, but filled with absolute conviction. "We're going to do this. Someday, somehow, it's going to work out, and I am _never_ going to give up until it does. And next time... it isn't going to end like it did four years ago. That's a promise."

A grim feeling settled in Luna's stomach at the sheer determination she heard in those words. She could tell that he meant it with every fiber of his being, could tell that he would fight to his last breath to fulfill his goal. If the Sailor Senshi wanted to stop this ceremony they were planning, they would have to take him down by force.

* * *

Kasumi glanced up, her face brightening as the mysterious talking cat walked back into the kitchen. She had to admit, she'd been on pins and needles waiting to see how it all turned out. "Oh, good!" she said in relief. "I was afraid Ranma would notice you. Did you do whatever it was you needed to do?"

The cat nodded in affirmation. Then the small animal looked up at her and spoke, concern in her eyes. "Kasumi, you should leave this place and come back with me," she said. Her voice was urgent, though still kept to a whisper. "I know people who can protect you. You'd be safe there."

The Tendo girl blinked in surprise. It was nice of the cat to be so concerned about her, she supposed, but she didn't understand why. It wasn't like things were usually _that_ dangerous around here, even when Ranma and his friends got rowdy. More importantly, what would her family do if she were gone? There was all the cleaning up around the house to consider, and the errands, and the cooking...

Oh dear. If she left, Akane might get it into her head to try cooking _herself_ again!

"Um... thank you very much for your offer," she replied, trying to be as diplomatic as she could in her refusal. "But I can't just leave like that. It... might turn out very badly for my family if I did." She didn't like to speak ill of her younger sister, of course, but at the same time she had seen first-hand the usual effect of Akane's culinary endeavors.

For some reason a horrified expression crossed the cat's face at that. Then the feline nodded, saddened but accepting. "I understand," she said. "In that case I'll leave for now. But don't worry; I'll be back soon. And I promise, we'll do everything in our power to help you _and_ your family."

"...thank you?" said Kasumi, not really following what the cat was saying, but not wanting to be rude. "Here, follow me, I'll open the side door for you."

The eldest Tendo daughter proceeded to do just that, and it was only after the cat had finally disappeared from sight that she allowed herself to fully relax. That had been a welcome change, she thought to herself. Usually when a situation like that came up, circumstances somehow conspired to make matters descend into chaos. Some part of her had been afraid that, even at the last moment, Ranma would somehow stumble across the cat despite all her efforts. But it seemed that tonight, at least, she had gotten the better of that tendency toward misfortune.

And so Kasumi smiled, then turned and headed back upstairs to her bedroom, gratified by the knowledge that her quick action had helped make Ranma's life just a little bit less troubled.

* * *

Usagi woke with a yawn as morning's light filtered in through her window. She slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. It was only after a few groggy seconds that she noticed that Luna was sitting pensively at the foot of her bed. The cat's eyes were red-rimmed, and it looked as though she hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night. "Luna?" the blonde girl asked, worried. "Are you all right?"

Luna nodded. "I'm fine," she told the blonde girl. "I went out last night to spy on those Dark Lords—to try and listen in on what they intend to do in response to our finding them."

Now Usagi was wide awake. "Luna!" she exclaimed, distraught. "You should have told us before doing something like that! What if they'd caught you?"

"They almost did," admitted the moon cat, not meeting Usagi's eyes. It seemed she was a little embarrassed herself over her reckless actions. "But that's not important right now. I learned what they intend to do, Usagi. Sometime soon they're going to try and approach us, and they're going to tell us that they don't have any intention of fighting anymore."

Usagi's face lit up. "Oh, that's great!" she said, her tone full of relief. "I was _really_ hoping that it would turn out like—"

"No!" interrupted Luna, shaking her head. "No, you don't understand. It's just a trick! They were also talking about how they still plan on performing the exact same ritual that we stopped the last time. It's just that this time, they intend to do it secretly! They're going to pretend they're not our enemies anymore... but no matter what, _you can't believe anything they say!_"


	4. Failure to Communicate

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Four: Failure to Communicate

With a strangled noise that was half-gasp and half-scream, Kodachi woke. Her breathing was heavy, and cold sweat made both her nightgown and her hair cling to her trembling body. Traces of late-morning sunlight filtered in around the drawn blinds, but they provided no comfort. Her mind was reeling, as she tried to shut out the fractured images that were plaguing her sleep with increasing frequency.

Even now, in her waking hours, there was no relief. Visions flashed through her mind no matter how hard she tried to block them out. Visions she did not want to remember, images of herself brutally beaten by a rotting, corpse-like monster.

Visions of her own mother torturing her, all the while smiling in sadistic glee.

_Not real!_ she thought, trying through sheer willpower to impose that fact on her remembrances. _Not real, not real, not real, not real. Just... tricks. Tricks to make me doubt myself. Manipulations of those vile harlots, trying to keep my beloved Ranma from me!_

But even the thought of her rivals prompted another burst of what she refused to believe were memories. Visions of blood, of the chaos of the battlefield, of people dying left and right around her. Visions of fighting back-to-back with those very same girls. Visions of a yellow-and-black monster driving a spear repeatedly through her stomach. Visions of Akane kicking the creature away from her with a cry of anger... only to have another monster exploit the opening she'd created in doing so, slamming an enormous sledgehammer into the Tendo girl from behind, her scream mingling with the crunch of bone.

Visions of the monster beating Akane to death, even as she tried, half-conscious, to act as a shield for the girl bleeding out beneath her.

Kodachi buried her head in her hands, as she tried to ignore the recollections that threatened to tear her view of the world to pieces, ignored them because they _hadn't_ happened, they _couldn't_ have happened, and anyone who said that they had happened was lying, lying, _lying!_

She clung to that forgetfulness. She clung to the Moon Kingdom magic that had allowed her to forget what she had experienced (because she _hadn't_ experienced it, she hadn't!). Even in the face of what Ranma himself had told her, even in the face of all the memories and emotions that refused to stay repressed, she struggled with all her might to hold together the now-tattered remnants of the veil that hung between her and what she was afraid to remember.

She rolled unsteadily to her feet. If willpower would not quiet her mind, then perhaps action would. She showered, dressed herself in a black leotard, and equipped herself with her weapons of choice: her gymnastics tools, along with a generous helping of paralysis powder bombs. And with that she exited the Kuno home, intent on her objective.

As she departed she crossed paths with her brother, who was at his morning kendo practice. He paused as he saw her, glancing her way. "Sister. To where are you headed this morning?"

Kodachi thought she detected concern in his voice, and she tensed defensively in response. Was it her imagination, or had that tone found its way into Tatewaki conversation more often as of late? How much did he know? She had tried her best to hide her growing anguish, tried to keep anyone from seeing any sign of weakness in her. But she found that lately this was becoming harder and harder to do. The blind Chinese boy had already figured out far too much for her comfort, and if he had been talking to her brother, even someone as dense as Tatewaki might begin to realize things as well.

_He must be part of their conspiracy too,_ she decided, for no other reason than it allowed her to feel anger, and anger helped her not to feel anything else. _He knows that they've been lying to me, playing with my mind, and he has been helping them do it! How else could they get to me while I sleep?_

She fixed him with a poisonous glare, but all she said aloud was: "I am going to visit my darling Ranma, brother. It has been far too long since I last sought his affections, and it would not do for one of those vulgar harridans chasing him to make any gains in my absence."

* * *

His black business suit immaculately pressed, Tanizaki Kazuo stood with his hands clasped behind his back as the elevator he was in descended. The trip was not a short one, though that was less an aspersion on the elevator's speed and more a testament to the sheer, staggering height of Tanizaki Tower. Zhang stood to his right, and a step behind. The Chinese assassin was silent, his hands concealed in the sleeves of his voluminous black robes.

Eventually the elevator came to a stop on the selected floor and the doors opened, allowing the two of them to step through. A short, thin-featured man was waiting for them on the other side. The man's hair was mostly grey, with only a few streaks of black remaining. His nervous, constantly-shifting eyes and bowed shoulders showed none of the cold, effortless poise that the first two radiated. "Good morning, Mr. Tanizaki," he said, bowing deferentially as the two of them walked past.

"Mr. Nagai," acknowledged Kazuo, not halting or slowing his stride. Nagai fell into step at the other man's left, opposite Zhang, though he had to scramble a bit to keep up with the steps of the other two men.

"There's good news from the National Diet, sir," Nagai continued. "Releasing that one piece of the blackmail material we have on the Prime Minister caused enough political trouble for his party that we were able to block the new tariff bill from passing without making it obvious just how many representatives we have in our pocket. And the Prime Minister doesn't seem to have realized it was us who released it; as far as he knows, it was the reporter who discovered it independently."

Kazuo responded with a small nod of approval. "How is the African situation?"

Nagai winced. "Not as good, sir. We've had our people trying to stall the sanctions in the U.N. like you told us to, but I don't think we have enough traction to stop them outright. It won't be long before Tochnost Armaments will be barred from selling into that conflict."

"That won't be an issue." While the ostensibly Russian-owned Tochnost Armaments _was_, indeed, one of the countless businesses that Kazuo controlled through an elaborate series of shell corporations and legal sleight of hand, their losing this business had been in Kazuo's plan from the very beginning. If he'd actually wanted to stop the U.N. from passing the resolution he would have thrown pressure against it from the American and Chinese governments as well.

No, he only needed Tochnost to be able to sell their specialized weapons to the warlord in question long enough for the overconfident fool to grow dependent on them, pushing his campaign past the point that his own technology and resources could sustain. Then, when the sanctions inevitably _did_ pass, he would be hopelessly overextended without them. Kazuo had already arranged for other weapons dealers—his illegal ones—to be ready to provide what the warlord would need, at even more ridiculous prices.

The warlord, of course, would have little choice but to accept. Especially since his enemies would soon be receiving weapons from a different supplier that Kazuo owned as well. And either way, whichever side won in the end, the resulting debt would make an excellent lever through which to gain easy access to the rich natural resources in the territory controlled by the victor.

Nagai, of course, knew nothing of those plans, nor did Kazuo make the slightest attempt to enlighten the smaller man. The ability to do what he was told, with absolute dedication, even in the absence of any details at all was one of Nagai's strengths. That, along with an innate instinct for greasing political wheels and gathering intelligence, was the reason he had risen so high in Kazuo's organization.

Not that these games held all that much significance anymore, not with Unit Zero so close to being ready. Soon, if all went according to plan, there would not be a single person on the planet capable of opposing him. And with Earth subjugated, he would be free to turn his attention to greater heights, to pit his abilities and resources against more powerful opponents on a stage that far transcended this simple one.

Still, the game of politics was an amusing enough mental exercise to pass the time between more pressing concerns, and so Kazuo kept up appearances.

"If there are no other pressing concerns, Mr. Nagai?" the businessman asked. The smaller man shook his head, slowing to a stop in response to the implicit dismissal. Kazuo and Zhang continued onward, leaving him behind as they made their way to their actual destination.

It was not long before they reached it, a nondescript door that looked no different from any of the others in the hallway down which they had been walking. Kazuo stopped in front of it, and in response to a wordless command, Zhang stepped forward and gave three quick knocks on the door.

There was a long pause. Then, of its own accord, the door swung open, moved by an invisible force. Kazuo and Zhang glanced at each other, wry amusement in their expressions at the theatrical display. It was a mystery to Kazuo why Ekim couldn't even do something as simple as opening a door without trying to make it a display of his arcane power.

Regardless, the two of them walked into the room, the door shutting behind them as they did so. The scent of incense filled Ekim's chambers, the only dim illumination coming from several small, flickering candles. Other doors led out of the main room into other parts of Ekim's quarters, including one door that was particularly reinforced and locked. The walls were lined with shelves filled with musty, ancient books and scrolls, while in the center of the room sat a circular, table-sized altar with a pentagram inscribed inside it, and other mystic sigils running around its edge. Atop the altar lay a crude stone knife.

And there, seated in front of that altar with his back toward them, was a hooded figure shrouded in ornate ceremonial robes. No features could be seen from this angle, but the man spoke without looking back at them. "Why have you disturbed my meditations?"

"Because, Mr. Ekim, I would like you to clarify your most recent status report." Kazuo kept his tone level and professional. "Earlier this week you indicated that your work on Unit Zero's thaumaturgic binding was complete, and that you were in the final stages of your tests. Now I see a request for more materials and additional time. Has there been any change in your progress of which I should be aware?"

The robed figure—Ekim—snorted. "The art of sorcery is not something that can be rushed according to your petty timetables or made to fit in your bureaucratic schedules, Tanizaki," he said, his tone self-important. "Leave me be. I will inform you in my own time when my work on this latest project of yours is finished."

"That is unacceptable," responded Kazuo, his voice becoming noticeably colder. "We had an agreement, Ekim. As part of that agreement, when you promise me a date for completion of your work I expect you to live up to that—or at the very least, I expect an explanation for exactly why you _failed_ to do so."

Kazuo could practically feel the sorcerer tense at the word "failed". When Ekim spoke again, it was with the hissing venom of a man whose overwhelming pride had been scorned. "You dare? You _dare _to imply that the work I performed for you was a failure?"

"I'm curious as to what else you expect me to view it as, if not a failure," the businessman replied. "The schedule you assured me that you could meet was not decided on a whim. If keeping it is beyond you, then that presents a problem that must be rectified."

Even as far apart as they were, Kazuo could hear the sorcerer's teeth grinding, and the flickering shadows around the man began to twist in a slithering, sinuous way that had nothing to do with the candlelight. "And what, exactly, does this 'rectifying' of yours entail?"

"Ideally, it entails that you get _back on the damned schedule_," answered Kazuo. "But if that turns out to be beyond you, then I can always terminate your employment and replace you with someone competent."

_That_ barb got under Ekim's skin, as Kazuo had intended it would. "Replace _me?_" the man snarled, shooting to his feet and whirling around, revealing his face for the first time. His pallid skin was blotched with numerous liver spots, and stretched across gaunt, withered features. His pale yellow eyes glared out from underneath his hood, flashing with anger. "Replace the mightiest sorcerer of this age? _Replace_ the chosen envoy of The Nameless One, the earthly conduit of His limitless power?"

Kazuo raised his eyebrows a little. "If your recent performance is the best this 'limitless power' can accomplish then I would not, myself, call it particularly limitless."

The sorcerer's eyes flashed with rage, and darkness began to gather in his right hand, a writhing shadow that seemed to hover just on the border between substance and insubstantiality, squirming in his palm as though it were alive. "You require a lesson in humility, Tanizaki!" Ekim snarled, preparing to aim his hand toward the target of his wrath. "You must learn that—"

_"Mr. Ekim."_ Kazuo released some of his killing intent as he delivered the ice-cold words, flooding the room with his battle aura. Ekim's eyes bulged, his muscles seizing up in sudden, instinctual fear. The scene remained frozen for a few seconds, before the businessman continued speaking. "Mr. Ekim, I do not suggest you point that spell at me unless you are _entirely_ confident that you can fulfill all of the obligations described in your employment contract with _one less arm_."

Ekim licked his lips, trying—and failing, miserably—to hide the sudden trembling in his limbs. Kazuo walked closer, until he was standing right in front of the other man, looking him dead in the eyes. "I don't intend to waste any more time debating this with you," he said dispassionately. "Your employment in my organization has been very lucrative so far, wouldn't you agree? If you want that arrangement to continue, then you need to stop dragging your feet and get back on schedule. Understood?"

The sorcerer opened his mouth as though to speak, hesitated, then took one more look at the merciless steel in Kazuo's gaze. Then Ekim nodded, looking away as he released the roiling shadows in his palm, allowing them to dissipate back into nothingness. "...yes. Understood."

"Excellent. Then I will look forward to better news in your next status report." With that, Kazuo turned on his heel and walked out of the darkened chambers, with Zhang following behind. The Chinese assassin shut the door himself as he left.

Once outside, Kazuo allowed himself a small, vexed sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose between two fingers for a moment before heading back toward the elevator. "I'd expected to have grown used to it long before now," he admitted to the other man as they walked away. "But somehow, even after all these years, his childish egotism still manages to irritate me."

Zhang offered his employer a lopsided smirk. "Well, only a short-sighted fool would have willingly contracted his soul to the kind of being Ekim serves in the first place. We needed a pawn capable of tapping that level of magical power, and 'overconfident idiot' is more or less inherent in that kind of job description."

"I suppose," agreed Kazuo. "And his stupidity does make him—and by extension, his otherworldly master—easier to manipulate in the long run. Even so, that does little to alleviate the annoyance of having to deal with his tantrums on such a regular basis."

"No argument there." They walked for a little longer, and then Zhang spoke up again. "You realize what all that was _really_ about, right? The sudden slip in the schedule, and all the posturing he was going through to cover it up?"

"Of course," said Kazuo, as the two of them reached the elevator and stepped inside, the doors closing behind them. "He's trying—again—to skim resources from his assigned tasks to work on his 'secret' ritual that he thinks we don't know about. If it had been an honest slip in schedule I wouldn't have come down so hard on him, but someone like him requires the application of a strong hand every now and then to keep him in line."

Zhang entered a long numeric code on a keypad inside the elevator, then pressed the button for their next destination. "And what about that ritual?" he asked as he did so. "Even if you don't want to force the issue while he's still useful to us, it would be... inconvenient... if he actually finished it."

"I've already taken precautions," was Kazuo's reply. "My operatives have already found and secured two of the unique items that he needs. He can buy as many archeological expeditions as he wants with the money we pay him, search ancient ruins until the end of time for artifacts that are sitting safely in one of my deep containment vaults on the other side of the planet. He's on our leash, and he doesn't even realize it."

The elevator descended further and further, until eventually the doors opened again, this time revealing the entrance to one of the Special Research floors of Tanizaki tower. More specifically, one of the floors devoted to bioresearch.

After passing through a security checkpoint manned by four guards, the two of them entered a long, antiseptically-white hallway. As they walked down it, they passed windowed doors on either side, leading into the labs where white-suited technicians and scientists could be seen laboring over computers, microscopes and sometimes operating tables. In many of the rooms, tall, cylindrical tanks could be seen, filled with a bubbling orange liquid in which floated many grey-skinned creatures of different sizes and shapes—one per tank.

Kazuo gave them little attention, pressing onward toward his destination. His progress was interrupted, however, by an angry shout from behind. _"Tanizaki!"_

The businessman paused, turning back to face the shouter with a look of studied politeness. When he spoke, it was in flawless, unaccented English. "Yes, Captain Davidson? Is there something you wish to speak to me about?"

"Damn right there is!" Captain Davidson strode down the hallway toward them, a huge, blond man that stood almost two heads taller than Kazuo, every inch of his body corded muscle. He was dressed in a thin patient's smock, as were the dozen or so similar-looking men who followed behind him, spilling out into the hall from one of the side labs. Soon they had blocked the hallway entirely, all of them glowering down at the businessman, their postures radiating barely-suppressed violence. Kazuo simply looked back at them, unperturbed.

"When are we going to see some action?" the blonde soldier demanded. "When you hired us, you promised you'd turn us into killing machines!"

"And I believe that I have kept that promise," was Kazuo's clam reply. "Or are you dissatisfied with the enhancements that Doctor Metzger's serum has granted you?"

"What good are Metzger's 'enhancements' if we just spend the rest of our lives in here getting poked and prodded by all these damned doctors?" Davidson growled back. His eyes were bloodshot as he glared down at his employer. "I want to get my team back into the field! I want to kill something _human_, not just these grey things they keep testing us against!"

"And the doctors... they haven't been giving us enough of the serum!" shouted another one of the soldiers. His eyes were even more bloodshot than Davidson's and Kazuo noticed that his fingers were trembling slightly. "If we were fighting somewhere for you... we could dose up more, right? We'd need to! You gotta send us back out there! Whoever it is you want dead... we'll kill 'em for you ten times over, I swear!"

"I will deploy you at the precise moment when it suits my objectives," Kazuo told him, his tone unchanged. "No sooner, and no later. In the meantime, I suggest that you devote yourselves to working with the doctors. Performing well in their tests can only improve your chances of being considered combat-ready."

_"Bullshit!"_ screamed back the crazed mercenary, spittle flying from his mouth. "You're... you're just hoarding all the serum for _yourself_, aren't you?" Murmurs of assent drifted up from the crowd of soldiers spurring the accuser on. "You can't treat us like this! _We won't let you!_" With a roar of semi-coherent rage, the soldier launched himself at Kazuo, hand shooting out toward the businessman's head as though to grab it and crush it.

Kazuo deflected the grab, casually batting it aside with his left hand and then twisting his attacker's hand into a wristlock. Simultaneously his right hand lashed out, tapping a half-dozen different pressure points across the soldier's body with such speed that Kazuo doubted the soldier even saw it happen.

Whether the man saw it or not, he certainly felt what happened next. The man screamed, his limbs going into spasmodic convulsions as though they were trying to rip themselves free of his own body. He toppled backward, thrashing back and forth, arching his back as he howled in agony.

Kazuo adjusted his business suit, straightening it out slightly. "If that is all...?" he asked the other soldiers, who seemed to have had their fervor noticeably dampened by his display of superiority. They backed down like beaten dogs, filing silently back into their laboratory, dragging their still-screaming companion behind them. Captain Davidson was the last to leave, and paused in the doorway as though he intended to say something more. But Kazuo met his gaze once more and the soldier lost his nerve, retreating back out of sight with no further protest.

Once they were gone, Kazuo and Zhang resumed walking. "It doesn't seem like the latest batch of Metzger's serum has done much to get rid of the side effects," observed the Chinese assassin. "If anything, it seems like the psychotic degeneration has been even _faster_ with this latest group, and the dependency issue is obviously still there."

"Unfortunately so," agreed Kazuo. "Truth be told, I'm considering cutting my losses on that entire project. It would have been nice to have a method of mass-producing intelligent, human super-soldiers without the need for a lifelong training effort, but we may have to make do with just the Synths for now. At least they don't display this... instability."

Zhang smiled. "If you do decide to cancel the project, I imagine the doctor will be very disappointed."

"Then he should have produced better results." As Kazuo spoke, he drew near to the door leading to his destination. Upon reaching it he pushed it open and stepped through, into a particularly large laboratory.

There were only two inhabitants in this particular lab, and one of them was manacled to an operating table. The other was an elderly man, his thinning hair gone completely past grey and into white, who was looking down at his terrified subject with clinical dispassion. Rubber gloves covered his hands, and he wore a white operating smock and a face mask.

The figure on the operating table was herself no ordinary sight. She was brightly colored, her skin a light purple, with short pink hair. There were, however, several places where her skin was broken by white lesions—wounds where her body seemed to be crumbling into dust. She struggled against her bonds, looking pleadingly up at the men standing over her while trying to whimper words around the gag in her mouth.

"Doctor Metzger." At Kazuo's words, the old man glanced up from his observations, apparently noticing his visitors for the first time. He walked over to them, removing the surgical mask to reveal a heavily-lined face. He briefly met his employer's gaze with one of his own, before looking down again.

"Ah. To what do I owe this honor, sir?" Metzger's Japanese was fluent, but still had a thick German accent to it. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I wanted to personally discuss the recommendation you made in your last report," Kazuo explained. "Specifically, your recommendation that we perform another test run... with Unit Zero's limiters released to as much as fifty percent."

"Yes sir," replied Metzger. "I believe that it is necessary. In what few live tests we've performed, the power draw has never exceeded ten percent of the maximum expected value. We can't call ourselves ready until we've evaluated Unit Zero's performance in conditions much closer to full activation."

Kazuo nodded. "I understand your concerns. But there are other dangers to weigh. Even the reduced tests we've run so far have carried a risk of alerting the Sailor Senshi to what we are doing, and I do not intend to challenge them openly until at least Unit Zero is fully prepared. We are pitting ourselves against beings with enough power to rewrite reality on a planet-wide level, Metzger. That is not something done lightly."

"But without more stringent tests, I cannot even guarantee that the fundamental approach we are taking is a sound one!" protested the doctor. "Especially considering how much of the project depends on that Ekim and his mysticism. There could be any number of flaws. Flaws that could take any amount of time to correct!"

The businessman frowned in thought. "I will take it under consideration," he replied at length. "Thank you for your input, doctor. It is, as always, appreciated."

Hearing the dismissal in his employer's voice, Metzger turned to walk back toward the operating table, but then paused. "By the way, sir... Speaking of the Sailor Senshi... I heard that you had your intelligence network on the alert for incidents regarding them. I sent you a memo an hour or two ago, but if you haven't received it yet I could just tell you in person."

Kazuo raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Indeed, please do. I was not aware that any such incidents involving them had taken place recently, but if you are aware of one..."

"Nothing has happened... yet," clarified Metzger. "The incident is _going_ to take place later this afternoon. They will be involved in some kind of... scuffle that breaks out in the Juuban area, but beyond that I don't have any further details."

"I see." Kazuo nodded, understanding now. "This information is from the Janus Project, correct?"

"Yes sir," Metzger confirmed. "I realize that the reliability of that source has been... inconsistent at times, but I thought you should know regardless."

"You were right," was Kazuo's reply. "Thank you, doctor. I will have this matter looked into. Now, unless there is anything else, I will not keep you from your work any longer."

"Yes sir," Metzger said, turning to regard the still-whimpering figure manacled to the table. "It's frustrating. Of all the monster species we sampled in order to create our Synths, these Daimons had some of the most interesting properties. But this degeneration..." He indicated the white lesions on her body disgustedly. "There must be something about the original Daimon Egg formula that I still don't understand. Something I haven't been able to reverse engineer from the eggs we salvaged from the ruins of Mugen Academy. It vexes me."

"I have every confidence that you'll figure it out," Kazuo assured him. "There aren't many people with your depth of experience at this kind of experimentation."

"Mmm. Only time will tell." Metzger put his surgical mask back on. "At any rate, this specimen could prove informative. I do have a theory that I've been testing over the past few weeks, and once I dissect this one I may be able to determine whether I'm on the right track or not."

At those words, the Daimon's eyes widened, and she redoubled her terrified thrashing against her bonds. The volume of her muffled screams also increased, forcing Kazuo to speak a little louder in order to talk over her. "Then I will leave you to it," he said, and with that he and Zhang walked out of the laboratory. The soundproofed door clicked shut behind them, cutting off the Daimon's pleading sobs with abrupt silence.

Zhang looked over at his employer, raising an eyebrow. "What do you make of that news about the Sailor Senshi, Kazuo? Do you think it's important?"

Kazuo frowned. "Most likely not," he said at length. "It will probably turn out to be nothing more than a random monster or oni wandering into the Senshi's territory. It's certainly happened often enough before." He stroked his chin in thought for a moment before continuing. "Still, no sense in taking chances. Have one of our surveillance teams stake out the area. If this battle the Senshi are about to fight does turn out to be something more significant, there may be some way we can turn it to our advantage..."

* * *

"All right, so here's how it's gonna happen," Ranma explained to the audience that stood assembled in the dojo, the same audience that had been there the previous night. Ukyo, Konatsu, Ryouga, Beneda, Akane and himself. "We want to get everything cleared up as quick as we can, so I'm going to head over to the Juuban area and get the Senshi's attention. I figured I'd just fire off a bunch of fireworks like we did last time—kinda near the Moon girl's house, but not close enough to spook 'em. Then, when they come out to investigate, I just tell them the whole story, from beginning to end."

Beneda, however, didn't look happy at the plan as described. "I really think it should be me doing this, Ranma," she protested. "It was my fault to begin with that they think you're against them. I should be the one to face them and sort things out."

"Not a chance!" interjected Ryouga, punctuating his words with a slashing motion. "We don't know if they're going to believe us or not. It's not a question of whose fault it is, it's a question of who has the best chance to get away safe if it all goes to hell!"

"Is there really that much of a difference?" asked Beneda. "You all know the kind of power that Sailor Moon is capable of throwing around! If she doesn't believe us, then either way..."

Ranma shrugged. "Maybe. But I think that depends on whether or not she's using that big-white-fluffy-dress form that she used to fight Metallia. And I saw how dangerous that can be for her. If things do go bad, I'm pretty sure I'll be able to get away without too much trouble if she doesn't pull out all the stops right off the bat." He glanced around at the others. "Anyway, _I'm_ the one taking the risk, and that's final."

No one else looked particularly happy about it, but it was clear that Ranma had no intention of budging. "All right, Ranchan," Ukyo said at last. "If that's the way you want it, then we'll do it that way. But... at least take this." She pulled out a small packet and handed it to Ranma. "It's one of my flour bombs. The latest model. Throw this down, and it should give you some extra cover to hide in if you do need to get out of there."

Ranma accepted the gift, sticking it into one of his pockets. "Thanks, Ucchan," he said. Then he got to his feet. "Well... guess there's no sense in wasting time. Wish me luck." And with that he turned and headed for the door.

* * *

His index finger resting firmly on his Gold General tile, his brow furrowed in concentration, Saotome Genma considered the Shogi board in front of him as he sat on the porch of the Tendo home. The situation did not look good. His old friend and training partner sat on the other side of the board, a pleased expression on his mustached face. Soun had him on the ropes at the moment, and Genma wasn't sure he would be able to get out of it.

He had almost come to a decision on where to move his piece when he was distracted by the sound of the porch door opening. The bald martial artist turned to see that his son had emerged from the house and was heading across the yard toward the outer wall of the Tendo compound. "Ranma!" he called out. "Where're you headed off to?"

Ranma paused, glancing back. "Juuban," he said, his voice cool and emotionless. "We ran into some trouble with the Sailor Senshi again. I'm going to try and straighten it out before it becomes as big a mess as last time."

"Last time...?" asked Genma. A sharp edge had entered his voice despite himself. "You're not going on about _that_ again, are you boy? This... year you say only you can remember? I thought I told you to stop with that nonsense!"

Something in Ranma's eyes hardened, but when he spoke his tone was as level as before. "You asked where I was going. I answered. Whether you believe it or not, I don't really care."

And with that he turned, leaping to the top of the outer wall and from there to the nearby rooftops. Genma watched him go, with emotions churning in his stomach that even he did not understand. He had long ago grown accustomed to his son's anger at him, an anger that would flare up like a bonfire over some cowardice or deceit or provocation—some way in which the elder Saotome had disappointed his child.

But somewhere along the way—Genma wasn't sure exactly when—that had changed. On the surface, it had seemed for the better. Ranma had stopped exploding at him almost entirely, seldom showing much beyond the barest, cooling embers of his former bursts of anger. It had taken Genma some time to realize why.

It was because Ranma was no longer disappointed in his father. Because he no longer expected anything else of him.

Genma didn't know what had caused that change. Some small, subconscious part of him understood that he didn't _want_ to know. But the one thing he could not shake was the realization that every time he had an argument with Ranma over the boy's "missing year," he would spend the next few nights plagued by shadowy, barely-remembered nightmares. Nightmares of Akane dying horribly while he and Soun ran away.

"Saotome?" Soun's voice cut into Genma's thoughts, bringing him back to the present. "Saotome, are you all right?"

The Tendo patriarch's expression didn't look very settled either, and Genma guessed that his old friend was probably feeling much of the same uncertainty that he was. But by unspoken agreement, neither of them admitted it. Instead, Genma slapped his knee, forcing a smile across his face. "Never better, Tendo," he said, as he reached down and moved his Gold General. "Never better."

* * *

Ranma had hardly left the dojo when Ukyo turned, fixing her eyes on her kunoichi servant. "Konatsu," she said, her voice fast and clipped. "I need you to follow Ranma and keep an eye on him, okay?"

Konatsu blinked at the request, his expression growing puzzled. "But... didn't Ranma say that he was going to do this alone?"

Ukyo shook her head impatiently. "He wants to keep the rest of us out of danger in case they don't believe him, but he's putting _himself_ in more danger than he needs to. _Please_, Konatsu. There's no one better at going undetected than you. Just follow him secretly, and if there is trouble, help him get out of there in one piece. Please?"

The okonomiyaki chef did feel a little bit guilty, knowing that Konatsu would never refuse her, even if her request was to put himself at risk for the sake of the young man she loved instead of him. And indeed, the cross-dressing ninja didn't even hesitate. "Of course, Lady Ukyo!" he said. "You don't need to worry; I won't let anything happen to him!"

With that, he simply vanished in a flicker of super-fast movement, even his ki aura erasing itself from Ukyo's senses entirely. She knew that from this point on it would be futile for her to try and track his progress. He was, without question, a true genius of his art, and his skills had only increased over the years she had known him.

None of the others said anything, but Ukyo knew that none of them had liked the idea of Ranma going alone either—knew that they had all wanted to go themselves, just as she herself had. But Konatsu was the best choice, by far the most likely to remain undetected.

Now, all that was left for them was to wait, and to pray that the Senshi would believe Ranma's explanation.

* * *

"...and then Ranma told her that no matter what, they were going to succeed the next time they tried to bring their army through!" Luna's gaze shifted across each of the assembled Inner Senshi, along with Artemis and Chibi-Usa. Mamoru—the civilian identity of Tuxedo Kamen—had arrived as well, and was sitting next to Usagi with one arm around the blonde girl.

Makoto crossed her arms, frowning. "So how do we respond to this?" the tall brunette asked. "Sooner or later they're going to show up and feed us this story. But still... even if we know it's just a pack of lies, it doesn't feel right to just _attack_ them if all they're doing is talking."

"You're right," agreed Ami. "Even if it's insincere on their part, them coming to us does still give us an opportunity to try and reason with them. From what Luna described, it sounds like they're reluctant to face us head-on, and also that they're nowhere near ready to summon their army again. If we show them that their ruse isn't going to work, we may be able to get them to back down without bloodshed."

"Yeah!" Usagi interjected enthusiastically. "We'll just tell them that Luna heard all their plans, and so they won't be able to trick us like that!"

"Wait, Usagi, we can't tell them _exactly_ how we know," the moon cat cautioned. "Remember, I only overheard their planning because one of their servants hid me right before they started talking about it, and she lied to them to cover for me. Until we get her and her family to safety, we can't tell the Dark Lords anything that might risk making them suspicious about what she did that night."

"Well, it shouldn't matter too much _how_ we found out," put in Minako. "With any luck, they'll just give up once they realize we're onto them."

As she spoke, there was the sound of a distant _pop_, followed by another, and then another. A curious expression on her face, Rei got up and walked over to the nearest window, here eyebrows going up a little at what she saw. "Well," she said at last. "If we're waiting for them to try and get our attention... I don't think we have to wait much longer."

The rest of them rushed over as well, Luna hopping up onto the windowsill for a better look. It was fireworks, shooting up into the air one after another from a ways off, exploding in bursts of white, blue, red, green and orange. _That's the same way the Dark Lords got our attention four years ago,_ Luna thought. _When they tried to force us to leave them alone by threatening to kill that poor girl they'd taken hostage._

"It's time," the moon cat said aloud. "Girls, you'd better transform. It looks like they're making their move."

* * *

Kodachi's plan to show up unannounced at the Tendo dojo and make an amorous attempt on Ranma's affections ran into a crippling roadblock early in its execution. Said roadblock being that Ranma did not seem to be _at_ the Tendo dojo when she arrived. At least, she never caught sight of him in any of her spying, as she peeked over the adjacent rooftops.

She did see two of her rivals out in the yard, however. Akane was one of them, of course, but Ukyo was also present, the two girls talking together worriedly about something. As Kodachi watched, the okonomiyaki chef put her hand on the other girl's shoulder and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze, to which Akane nodded as they continued to talk.

The gymnast ground her teeth, telling herself that the two of them were scheming something, working together to steal her Ranma away and share him between the two of them. But she would not fall victim to such foul play. She studied both girls closely, trying to guess what kind of devious plot they might be concocting—

_—as Ukyo's battle spatula deflected the swing of a large club-wielding youma, knocking it off-course before it could hit her, while her ribbon lashed out in the other direction, slashing at the eyes of a youma trying to attack Akane—_

Kodachi sucked in a shuddering breath, clenching her eyes shut and forcing the images from her mind, reminding herself that they were not real, not real, _not real_. Eventually, some semblance of control regained, she dropped down behind the house she was perched atop, then crept slowly across the street toward the Tendo home, using the compound's outer wall for cover. Soon she was close enough that, even with the wall between them, she could strain her ears and catch what her two rivals were saying on the other side of it.

"...always the hardest when there's nothing you can do," was the first thing she heard Akane say, concern and frustration in her voice. "If I could've gone with him to Juuban, it wouldn't be so bad. But just _waiting_ here, when you know he's out there risking his life..."

"I know what you mean," agreed Ukyo, sympathetically. "I wish he'd been willing to take more of us along too. But that's Ranchan for you. If we'd gone along, I bet _he'd_ be just as worried about us as we are about him now."

Akane's response was a sigh. "You're right, of course. I just hope he doesn't take too many chances. It's bad enough when he goes up against people who want to kill him for selfish reasons, but I'm worried about what will happen if a fight breaks out this time. With the way things are right now, he wouldn't fight back using anything that could seriously injure the Sailor Senshi... and that'll put him at a disadvantage."

The Sailor Senshi. The name provoked another flood of images in Kodachi's mind, and she knew that they were connected to the battle that she had fought in, the one that _hadn't actually happened, it hadn't, it hadn't_. She clenched her fists, trying with all her might to retain her already-fractured grip on what she considered to be reality. She bit down on her knuckle, hard, trying to focus, trying to make sense of what she had just learned.

Ranma had gone to the Sailor Senshi. The Sailor Senshi were connected to the memories somehow, and her rivals knew about it. It was all connected, all connected. She just couldn't see _how_ and none of it made any sense anymore.

But one thing made sense. Only one thing, but it was the only thing that mattered. Those two tramps, harlots, schemers, deceivers... they had said that Ranma was in trouble. Ranma was in _danger_. Ranma was being threatened by the Sailor Senshi. She knew who they were. She had heard of them, even aside from the flashes of memory that weren't—_couldn't be_—memories. She knew that they were "magical girls" that operated largely in the Juuban area, just where Akane had said Ranma had gone. And if Ranma was in danger from the Sailor Senshi...

Well. That meant that the Sailor Senshi were about to be in danger from _her_.

Not caring to listen to any more, Kodachi turned away and began to run, moving as fast as she could in the direction her beloved had gone.

* * *

Moving as silently as a whisper, Tuxedo Kamen leapt up three stories to the rooftop of the nearby building, then crept across it until he had reached the edge, giving him a good view of the scene before him. On the rooftop across from him was, indeed, the Dark Lord Ranma himself, standing amidst a steadily-diminishing pile of fireworks. The sight recalled afresh the memory of their previous clashes, and just how close they had all come to death at his hands.

_Not this time,_ the masked man promised himself. _Not if I have anything to say about it._

The Sailor Senshi had not yet arrived; Tuxedo Kamen had gone ahead of them, taking up his customary position as hidden backup support. If Ranma tried anything, he would be there to help counter it. Fortunately, the Dark Lord didn't seem to have noticed his stealthy approach, and so he would have, as usual, the element of surprise on his side if it did become necessary to intervene.

He thought back to his previous fights against this opponent, as well as with the other Dark Lord, Ryouga, trying to plan for what might come. He'd been able to survive against them, and even hold his own when there had been youma acting as a third force that prevented any one side from being able to focus on another exclusively. Still, he knew that on the whole the Dark Lords had distinctly outclassed him in straight one-on-one combat.

But although he hadn't gained any new attacks or transformations over the years, the overall strength, speed and durability of his transformed body had still grown along with the Sailor Senshi's. And of all their team, close-quarters combat was his forte. _If he's still the same as he was four years ago, I'm confident that I can beat him now,_ he thought. _Hopefully it won't come to that. But if it does, I have to be ready to protect Sailor Moon._

And so Tuxedo Kamen waited, eyes locked on his unsuspecting target.

* * *

Moving as silently as a thought, Konatsu leapt up to the rooftop and hid behind the roof access stairway, a position from which he could keep an eye on the tuxedo-clad and cane-wielding man who was in turn keeping an eye on Ranma. Konatsu had begun scouting out the area even before Ranma had started to send up his fireworks, and had quickly noticed both the approaching Sailor Senshi and this masked figure who had gone ahead of them.

_This man is the one for me to watch..._ the ninja thought. _If they launch a surprise attack against Ranma, it will most likely be through him. I have to make sure he doesn't get the chance._

And so Konatsu waited, eyes locked on his unsuspecting target.

* * *

Ranma lowered the burning match to the next fuse, then watched as it caught and the flame began racing up toward the firework to which it was attached. In seconds the small explosive shot up into the sky with a loud shrieking noise, exploding in a burst of green sparks. There wasn't any sign of the Sailor Senshi yet, though a small crowd of gawkers had gathered below, probably trying to figure out what on earth he was doing. _Hope one of those girls sees this soon..._ the pigtailed fighter thought. _I don't have all that many of these things left..._

And then, as though summoned by his thoughts, he heard a familiar voice calling up from the street below. _"Ranma!"_

The pigtailed fighter walked to the edge of the rooftop to look down at the speaker, standing at the center of her group of six similarly-dressed girls. They were spread out, keeping their distance from him and between each other, which Ranma noted approvingly. They probably remembered that he was at his best when close-up, and had spaced themselves out so he could only attack one of them at a time. All of the Sailor Senshi were looking up at him, but Ranma found his gaze captured by the one who had spoken.

She was very much like he remembered... and yet at the same time, very different as well. Her long blonde pigtails still flowed down nearly to her feet from either side of her head. She was taller now, no longer the scrawny middle-schooler, but rather a high school girl that was well on her way to becoming a woman. She still wore a white sailor seifuku, though its trimmings and frills were now much more intricate, with splashes of pink and yellow added here and there to the blue and red from before. Not to mention what looked like a pair of short wings—_wings!_—sprouting from her back.

But even more noticeable than any of that was the difference in her bearing. The girl who had faced him down in the gymnasium of Furinkan High had been terrified, pushing past her fear to stand with trembling legs and deliver her challenge. The Sailor Moon who stood before him now, however, met his gaze head-on, with quiet composure and a bone-deep determination.

Despite himself, the corner of Ranma's mouth quirked upward in a small smile. _Kid's been doing some serious growing up,_ he thought. Aloud, what he said was: "Hey, Sailor Moon. Been a while."

"Yes, it has," agreed the blonde girl. "Is your friend Ryouga somewhere around here as well?"

The pigtailed fighter shook his head. "No, I came alone," he told them. "It's just me, I swear. I'm not here for a fight. I just want to talk things out. See, the thing is... I know we got off to a bad start last time, but... really, we were never against you guys from the beginning!"

"You... _seriously_ expect us to believe that?" At the words, Ranma turned to look at Sailor Mars, who was looking up at him in dumbfounded incredulity. "You attacked us! You threatened to kill innocent bystanders to try and make us back down! You _ranted to us about how you were going to conquer the entire world!_"

Ranma scratched the back of his head. "Well, when you put it like _that_..." he muttered to himself. Then he spoke up louder. "Look, I can explain all that stuff! See, what was _actually_ going on back then was that we were trying to trick everyone into _thinking_ we were trying to take over the world, and then use that to fake getting banished, 'cause of how everyone wanted to kill us by then. Oh, and the whole thing of how our fight got started at first? With us attacking you? That was all just a _complete_ misunderstanding."

Sailor Mars' expression in response to Ranma's claims was one of flat disbelief. The pigtailed fighter grimaced. This was going even worse than he'd expected. "Okay, maybe if I just started at the beginning..."

"Don't bother. We already know you're trying to trick us!" Ranma turned again, his gaze travelling down the line of Sailor Senshi to identify the latest speaker—

—and froze, his blood fairly curdling in his veins. He had been so wrapped up in the obvious threats to himself and to his friends, the threat of newer, more deadly Senshi and the power of the Moon Princess that could rip whole _planets_ asunder that he had forgotten about a much, much simpler threat in dealing with these girls.

They had a pet cat! They had a _freaking pet cat!_

The small feline had only crossed Ranma's path very briefly in the original conflict four years ago—and only until Ryouga handled the situation—but now the memory returned with a vengeance. And there were _two_ of the small creatures now, both of them standing off at the left end of the Senshi line. Ranma's hands clenched into fists, his heart hammering in his chest, cold sweat starting to run down his back.

_Don't freak out! Don't freak out! Whatever you do, don't freak out!_ he commanded himself, calling on all his willpower and self-discipline. _You can do this! It's only two of those... those... those things! And they're three stories down there, not even close by! You've handled way worse than this, Saotome! Don't let it shake you!_

Licking his lips nervously, he tried his best to respond to the accusation of the black... creature. "Wh- wh- wh- what are you talking about?" he asked, not quite looking at the small animal directly.

"You know exactly what I mean!" the cat retorted. "Everything you're telling us now is just a smokescreen! It's all to buy time for you to complete the exact same ceremony you tried to perform four years ago!"

* * *

Luna watched as the Dark Lord tried his best to deny her exposal of his true aims. _He's not a very convincing liar when he's flustered,_ she thought. The young man was clearly having trouble responding to her charges; he was stammering, looking like he might panic and bolt at any moment, and was having trouble even looking her in the eye as he spoke.

"I'm... I'm telling you, you got it all wrong!" Ranma protested. "I'm not trying to trick you! All that stuff about killing you guys and summoning an army... _that_ was the trick! But I'm being honest _now_, I swear! I don't want to fight you!"

"We don't want to fight you either!" called up Sailor Moon, her voice earnest. "Just stop your mind control on everyone you've enslaved, and surrender your dimensional-artifact-thing, and I'm sure we can work something out!"

_"I don't have a dimensional-artifact-thing!"_ shouted back Ranma, almost hyperventilating now. "And I'm not mind-controlling anyone! Why would you even think that?"

"We know you are! Because—" Sailor Moon broke off, doubtless remembering Luna's admonition to protect the safety of the woman who had aided them. "—because of... magic... and stuff. Anyway, the important thing is that we really do know what you're doing! And if you won't stop doing it... then we're going to have to stop you!"

* * *

Ranma's breath was coming fast and erratic, as panic clawed for purchase against his mind. He was holding it at bay, but with increasing effort. _Why aren't they listening?_ he thought desperately to himself. They were just refusing to believe anything he tried to tell them. And they wouldn't even explain _why!_

And the cat. The _talking_ cat. Ranma still couldn't bring himself to quite look at it directly, but he didn't dare turn completely away either. At any moment he expected the small monster to leap at him from below, claws and teeth extended, ready to slash open his face and rip his flesh from his bones. It would make its move any second now. He was sure of it! Hell, the damned cat was probably the reason the Senshi weren't listening to him in the first place! The hideous, furry little devil obviously _wanted_ him dead. It must have lied to the girls to poison their minds against him!

Sailor Mercury was talking now, saying something about coexistence and finding a peaceful solution to whatever reasons he had for his ambitions of conquest, but it was barely registering at this point. He had to get out of here. He should have known this would never work. In desperation, he reached into his pocket, his fingers closing on the flour bomb Ukyo had given him.

The feel of it in his palm gave him some tiny measure of comfort. Then, slowly, surreptitiously, he inched it out with a trembling hand, keeping it hidden behind his palm from the watchers below. He then breathed a small, shaky sigh of relief. He was better prepared now. If that crazed, bloodthirsty little demon down there tried to attack him, he could use Ucchan's gift to help escape.

* * *

From his hidden vantage point, Tuxedo Kamen watched as the situation in front of him steadily devolved. Ranma had clearly been caught off-guard by the Sailor Senshi already knowing about his scheme, and his composure had not held up well to being cornered. But unfortunately, even as rattled as he seemed to be, it didn't seem like he intended to give up the charade. Rather, he seemed to only be growing more erratic, and the masked man heightened his alert in case the young man decided to try something desperate.

And then he saw it. As Sailor Mercury tried her best to reason with him, Ranma's hand was inching out of his pocket, with something held in his palm—held _specifically_ so that from their position the Sailor Senshi couldn't see that he was drawing it. Was it a weapon? A bomb? Whatever it was, Tuxedo Kamen couldn't let him use it on his unaware teammates.

His decision made, the masked man drew a rose and prepared to throw it, aiming to strike the object from Ranma's hand.

* * *

Konatsu's eyes widened. Just from what he could overhear, he had already gathered that negotiations with the Sailor Senshi were not going particularly well. But even so, he was surprised to see that the tuxedo-clad fighter he had been watching was now getting ready to attack, drawing a rose and preparing to hurl it in Ranma's direction.

The cross-dressing ninja, however, acted first. His hand shot out, sending a small shuriken hissing through the air, bisecting the rose's stem before its wielder could throw it. The masked man spun around, raising his cane defensively with one hand while pulling out a rose with the other, even as Konatsu shot across the rooftop toward him.

The kunoichi came in low at the last second, lunging forward as his opponent's cane slashed through the air just above his head. Konatsu buried an uppercut into his opponent's stomach, the force of the blow lifting the man off his feet. The man's breath left him in a gasping _whuff_, but he still attempted to bring his cane down onto the ninja's skull.

Konatsu whipped his _ninja-to_ blade from its sheath and blocked in a single smooth motion, the two weapons slamming against each other. Then he spun, bringing the hilt of the weapon around into the side of the masked man's head, sending him flipping head over heels to crash to the rooftop a good distance away.

_Well,_ thought the cross-dressing ninja resignedly, as he watched his opponent climb unsteadily back to his feet. _I suppose this means that negotiations are over._

* * *

Sailor Moon listened to Sailor Mercury urging the Dark Lord to see reason, while at the same time watching Ranma's face for any sign that he might be accepting it. To her dismay, there was none. More and more, it was feeling like a fight of some kind was inevitable. They _had_ to rescue Ukyo and the other girls, had to prevent Ranma's plan from coming to pass.

If only she could just find some other way, somehow...

And then, without warning, there was a sudden burst of motion on another rooftop. Sailor Moon turned to look, just in time to see a tuxedo-clad figure go flying through the air, from the attack of what seemed to be a female ninja. _"Tuxedo Kamen!"_ she cried out.

Sailor Jupiter let out a hiss of anger. "The liar _did_ have backup after all! He must have been planning for a sneak attack from the start if he couldn't fool us!" Green light had already begun to coalesce by her forehead, converging on the small antenna that had just risen from the center of her tiara. Then she released her power with a shout of _"Jupiter Oak Evolution!"_

Dozens of green, leaf-shaped energy projectiles began to shoot out from her tiara, targeting the ninja. The kunoichi leapt backward in a frantic series of dodges and flips as the blasts traced her path, detonating in a trail of huge explosions until the ninja escaped Sailor Jupiter's line of sight, disappearing back beyond the edge of the rooftop. The reprieve allowed Tuxedo Kamen to catch his balance, and he immediately chased after his opponent through the residual flames from the explosive barrage, his cloak billowing behind him.

Meanwhile, Ranma had thrown something down onto the roof he was standing on. There was a loud _thump_, and a white cloud burst out from the impact point to almost entirely cover the rooftop, cutting it off from view.

They could hear Tuxedo Kamen and the female ninja fighting above, and it was there that Sailor Moon decided to intervene first. She ran toward the building and leaped up onto it as well, followed by the rest of the Sailor Senshi. The cats remained behind, their eyes following anxiously as the girls disappeared over the rooftop edge; the building was too tall for them to make a jump like that.

Now that his opponent no longer had the advantage of surprise, Tuxedo Kamen was holding his own better than before. Even so, the kunoichi was still dominating the fight. Her sword deflected his every cane swing with ease, and she responded with punishing kicks and elbow strikes that the tuxedo-clad man was barely managing to weather.

The Senshi fanned out across the rooftop, attempting to get a good angle on the enemy that didn't risk hitting their masked ally as well as the two fought. Only Sailor Moon didn't bother, given that _her_ most potent attack was a blast of purifying magic that was entirely harmless to ordinary human beings. She simply focused her will, the scepter-like Final Tiare appearing in her hands, golden light collecting at its tip, growing brighter and brighter as her power built. _"Silver Moon Crystal—"_

A red-and-black blur shot out of the swirling white cloud on the nearby rooftop and plowed into her before she could complete her attack. She stumbled, trying to catch her balance, whereupon Ranma brought his hand up in a sharp blow to the underside of her wrist, knocking the Final Tiare spinning out of her hands and into the air. He then placed his foot against her stomach and used it to deliver a shove that sent her flying straight at Sailor Jupiter. The brown-haired Senshi barely managed to catch her, and the two of them went skidding back across the rooftop, Sailor Jupiter's high heels leaving trails of sparks as they went.

_"Venus Love and Beauty Shock!"_

_"Mercury Aqua Rhapsody!"_

_"Mars Flare Snip—ERK!"_

Fire gathered in Sailor Mars' hands, forming itself into a large bow with a flaming arrow. She aimed it at Sailor Moon's attacker, sighting down the length of the shaft. But just before she could release her projectile Ranma caught the falling Final Tiare out of the air. The instant after he grabbed the scepter it seemed to vanish from sight, reappearing across the rooftop as it impacted into Sailor Mars' forehead. The blow knocked her back off her feet and caused her arrow to fire completely off-course, shooting off into the sky.

Sailor Venus and Sailor Mercury, however, both unleashed their powers without hindrance. Sailor Mercury molded the water swirling around her into the shape of a harp, which she then began to play, sending a torrent of water raging out from it toward her target. Sailor Venus simply blew a kiss, which became a glowing golden heart that she hurled at Ranma as well.

But the Dark Lord _moved_, disappearing from the path of either attack in a burst of speed so fast that even Sailor Moon's magically enhanced eyes could barely track his movement. The two attacks exploded harmlessly to his right, even as he launched himself from there toward Sailor Venus like a human cannonball.

_"Crescent—"_ Sailor Venus tried for a second attack, but Ranma was on the blonde girl far too quickly. Even as golden light formed at her fingertips the Dark Lord had reached her—and then planted a hand on her head as he flipped over the girl and landed behind her. She tried to spin and face him, Crescent Beam still ready to fire, but the pigtailed fighter put a hand between her shoulder blades and shoved, sending her careening forward across the rooftop until she managed to catch her balance again. Ranma, for his part, had to hop back toward the opposite edge of the roof as Sailor Chibi-moon sent a flashing stream of pink hearts through the space he'd been occupying with a cry of _"Pink Sugar Heart Attack!"_

By then Sailor Jupiter had steadied both herself and Sailor Moon, and Sailor Mars was likewise scrambling back to her feet. At the same time Sailor Mercury called out to them, her voice clear and incisive. "He's too fast to hit with targeted attacks!" she said. "Everyone, use your powers that give you the most coverage instead!"

The rest of them nodded in agreement, already calling on their mystic energies from their positions spread across the rooftop, all of them now focused on the pigtailed fighter. Then, with shouts of _"Jupiter Oak Evolution!"_, _"Burning Mandala!"_, _"Crescent Beam Shower!"_, and_ "Shabon Spray Freezing!"_ they unleashed a massed-fire blizzard of energy projectiles of all different shapes and colors. Flaming rings, ice-blue spheres, golden beams and glowing green leaves all flooded the air in a kaleidoscopic maelstrom.

Ranma's eyes bulged, and he let out a panicked yelp before spinning to dive headlong off the edge of the rooftop, vanishing from sight as the Senshi barrage screamed overhead. He reappeared a moment later, jumping back up onto one of the rooftops several buildings away as he surveyed them from a safer distance.

It was then that Sailor Moon heard the sound of an impact, and Tuxedo Kamen came flying across her field of vision, landing in a heap at the edge of the roof. The Senshi whirled toward where the ninja stood, ready to fight her as well... but instead of pressing her attack, the kunoichi jumped away as well, falling back to where Ranma now stood.

The two of them exchanged a few quick words, but Sailor Moon could not hear them over the distance. Then with one last glance at the rooftop occupied by the Senshi they turned and fled, hopping from rooftop to rooftop as they retreated.

* * *

Ranma's feet pounded across the rooftops as he ran, his mind churning as he tried to process the events of the recent past. This was a little easier now that he was out of the thick of combat. And _much_ easier now that he was away from those damned cats.

It was fortunate that he'd had Ucchan's flour bomb to block off sight of them and collect himself, and even more fortunate still that the subsequent rooftop skirmish had taken place out of line of sight from the small felines. Otherwise, he might not have been able to give Konatsu much aid at all. He didn't know what Sailor Moon's attack would have done had he not interrupted it, but given the scale of power she could operate on he didn't want to take any chances.

"What do you plan to do next, Ranma?" asked the ninja, who was running alongside him. "It... doesn't seem like talking it over has worked out the way you wanted."

"No kidding." Ranma grimaced, while glancing back over his shoulder again to make sure that the Sailor Senshi weren't trying to hunt them down. They weren't; it seemed that they had instead rushed over to make sure the tuxedo-guy was all right. "Hell, I don't even know _why_ they didn't believe me! From the way they were talking it sounded like they had some kind of... specific reason why they thought we were still trying to take over the world. But they wouldn't explain what it was! It doesn't make any sense!"

Konatsu nodded. "So to prove that we are innocent, we need to first figure out what this mysterious 'reason' of theirs is?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ranma said with a sigh. "But on the other hand, I don't know if we _can_ figure all of it out in time to actually avoid a fight. And if we can't... then maybe it's better to focus on _winning_ the fight instead."

The ninja was silent at that, leaving Ranma to wrestle with his thoughts. He didn't like any of his options, and it was only made worse by a nagging feeling of anxiety that wouldn't let him alone. It wasn't his danger sense, at least not exactly, but it was a similar kind of instinct that he had developed over the years. A vague sort of premonition, a sense of anticipation that despite his best efforts—as was depressingly usual for him—things were about to somehow go horribly wrong.

But how? True, the situation had not gone as planned, but at least they had gotten out of it in one piece. The Senshi weren't even chasing him, and the immediate danger, at least, seemed to be over.

So why was he still so uneasy?

* * *

Kodachi hadn't exactly had a sound plan of action in mind before heading for the Juuban area. All she knew from the conversation she had overheard was that Ranma was in danger from the Sailor Senshi, and that this was where he had gone. And so, armed with little more than a vague direction and her maniacal resolve, she had begun her search for him.

She hadn't _known_, when she'd caught sight of the fireworks far off in the distance, that they had anything to do with her darling, but it had been a better clue than nothing. She'd changed her course to aim for there, and even after the fireworks themselves stopped she continued to head in that direction.

The gymnast slowed her pace as she drew nearer, noticing that a white cloud-ish plume was rising up from one of the rooftops. _One of the okonomiyaki tramp's flour bombs?_ she wondered, noticing its familiarity. Then, from a rooftop behind the cloud, she saw what looked like an arrow of flame shoot up into the sky and out of sight. Her eyes narrowed. _Something is definitely going on there—a battle of some kind?_

And if the strange happenings gave her suspicions more weight, what happened next confirmed them entirely. A huge torrent of destructive energy shot through the air from behind the cloud, making her eyes go wide at the sight. Then her darling Ranma came into view, joined shortly thereafter by Ukyo's ninja servant, whereupon the two of them turned and fled the scene.

Kodachi's hungry gaze tracked Ranma as he ran... but she resisted the temptation to chase after him just yet. There were other matters to attend to first.

Specifically, the matter of dealing with whoever it was that had dared to raise their hands against her beloved.

* * *

Sailor Moon breathed a sigh of relief as Tuxedo Kamen pulled himself back up to a sitting position, shaking his head as though to clear it. He didn't seem to have sustained any serious injury, beyond getting the wind knocked out of him along with a few bruises. The blonde girl knelt on the rooftop right next to him and the other Senshi did similarly, forming a loose circle. "Are you all right?" she asked, just to make sure.

Tuxedo Kamen nodded, suppressing a small wince. "I'm fine," he said. "Mostly just wounded pride. That ninja girl was... an amazingly skilled fighter."

"They both were." Sailor Jupiter glanced over at Sailor Moon, Sailor Mars and Sailor Mercury. "You didn't tell us the Dark Lords were _this_ strong."

"They weren't!" replied Sailor Moon. "I mean... they _were_ super fast and strong and everything when we fought them the last time... but this was even more than it was back then!"

"Yes," agreed Sailor Mercury. "We clearly aren't the only ones who've improved since that fight. We need to factor their increased capabilities into our strategy for the next time we face them."

"And when do we do that?" asked Sailor Jupiter. "I know I'd like another crack at that Ranma guy, so the sooner we go after him the— _look out!_"

Right in the middle of her sentence, a small packet shot through the air with bullet-like speed, striking the ground right in the middle of the circle of Sailor Senshi, where it exploded in a cloud of swirling dust. But Sailor Jupiter—from her position in the circle—had seen the attack coming, which had given her a split-second to react. And she had used it. Not to save herself, but to lunge forward and shove both Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen as hard as she could, hurling them clear. That left her right at ground zero, her limbs locking up in paralysis as she tumbled over along with the other Senshi.

Sailor Moon rolled to her feet, whirling around in the direction from which the packet had been thrown, in time to see an older girl clad in a black leotard alight on the rooftop and begin stalking toward them. There was something dangerous in her eyes, something erratic, something completely unstable. And yet, underneath it all, Sailor Moon could also see _pain_, a pain that made her own heart ache just glimpsing it.

"You miserable... treacherous... deceitful little _wretches!_" the girl hissed as she approached. "You will pay for trifling with my darling Ranma! _You will all pay dearly!_"

The crazed gymnast struck out at Tuxedo Kamen with her ribbon, its coils winding through the air with blinding speed, slashing up the rooftop wherever they hit. But the masked man deftly avoided the attacks, dodging around her every cut. When he retaliated, it was by hurling a single rose that she only just avoided, its thorns cutting a line of blood across her cheek as she jerked her head out of the path of the red-and-green projectile.

Tuxedo Kamen took advantage of the opening, lunging forward with a flurry of cane swings. The girl whipped out a gymnastics club from somewhere and managed to block the first few, the two weapons crashing against each other as she backpedaled under the onslaught. But soon one of the strikes got through, his cane slamming into the side of her head. She stumbled, reeling, allowing the tuxedo-clad fighter to spin and drive his weapon straight into her chest, flinging her the length of the rooftop.

He drew another rose to throw it, but Sailor Moon lunged forward and caught her protector by the arm before he could. "Wait!" she pleaded. "Don't kill her! She... isn't like Ranma. I can tell. She's... hurting. She's hurting _so much_. Please, I have to try and help her!"

The masked man hesitated, then nodded once in understanding, turning back to Kodachi, who had by then pulled herself back to her feet. Fortunately—her sneak attack notwithstanding—she didn't seem to be nearly so strong in a direct fight as Ranma or the ninja had been. Tuxedo Kamen tossed aside the rose he'd been about to throw and drew a different one, doubtless enchanted with a different effect. He then leapt at her, hurling roses as he went, keeping her entirely on the defensive as she fought with all her might just to avoid them.

* * *

Ranma was in mid-leap between buildings when he sensed the spike of killing intent from behind him. It was distant, but it was also huge, with not the slightest attempt to disguise itself whatsoever, battle aura pouring out like water pouring out of a broken fire hydrant. He landed, then immediately turned to look over his shoulder, squinting his eyes to try and make out what those tiny, distant figures were doing back there.

Then his eyes went wide, as he recognized the ponytailed figure in the black leotard who was even now fighting against the other two. _Oh no,_ he thought. _Oh hell no! What's she doing here?_

It was the worst turn of events he could imagine. A lunatic like Kodachi attacking the Sailor Senshi would only confirm their suspicions yet more... and worse, he knew that the crazed gymnast wasn't actually skilled enough to survive the fight she'd just picked. The Senshi might well kill her. Even as he watched, he saw a tiny figure that had to be Sailor Moon raise her scepter, leveling it directly at Kodachi.

He had to stop this. He had to get over there before things got any worse than they already were. Calling on all his speed, he tore across the rooftops, the air howling around him as he hurtled back toward the fight, praying that he'd arrive there in time.

* * *

Sailor Moon took a deep breath. She didn't know exactly if this would work, didn't know if it would be able to help the girl with whatever was afflicting her, but it was the only thing she could think of to try. If it was Ranma's mind control that was causing this, then maybe she could restore her from that, like she had so many other people over the years.

Once again, with a flash of light, she summoned the Final Tiare to her hands, focusing her power into it. Once again, golden energy began to gather at the artifact's head, glowing brighter and brighter as its strength built. Once again, Sailor Moon began to call out the name of her attack.

_ "Silver..."_

* * *

Tuxedo Kamen landed in a defensive position, standing protectively between the girl he loved and the leotard-clad attacker. Behind him, Sailor Moon had already started to cast her magic. In seconds it would be unleashed, hopefully freeing their opponent from whatever misery Ranma had inflicted on her. He just had to hold her back for that long.

The gymnast must have realized the importance of what Sailor Moon was doing as well, because she dove headlong to the right, trying to get around him to where she could attack the blonde girl. In midair she drew—of all things—a rose, this one black instead of the red roses that he favored. Then she hurled it, sending it speeding toward its target.

But Tuxedo Kamen was too fast. He had matched her dodge, and his hand shot out even as the rose went by, snatching it out of the air before it could get anywhere close to Sailor Moon. Then he held it up in front of him so that she could see plainly how futile such an attack was.

_ "...Moon..."_

* * *

Kodachi watched as the masked man caught her rose in mid-flight and held it up in front of him for display. He then opened his mouth—perhaps to give some kind of grand speech about the evil of using roses for nefarious purposes.

What he _would_ have said she never learned, since the explosive in her rose detonated before he could deliver any of it. The concussive force of the blast knocked the man into an end-over-end flip, leaving the route to the blonde girl clear.

With a wild cry, she raised her gymnastics ribbon and lunged forward, the bladed fabric slashing out toward its target.

_"...Crystal..."_

* * *

Sailor Moon's eyes widened as Tuxedo Kamen was hit by the explosion. The next instant the crazed gymnast was leaping toward her, her ribbon outstretched. The young princess had seen firsthand how dangerous her opponent's weapon was... but she also knew that if she aborted her attack to dodge she would lose her chance at helping this girl, and she would also leave her incapacitated teammates vulnerable. She couldn't let that happen!

So instead she steeled her will and gripped down on the Final Tiare with all her strength. The ribbon struck a split-second later, so supernaturally sharp that it made a razor look blunt, managing to cut even her magically-strengthened body. The crazed gymnast slashed at her in a frenzy, sending blood spraying left and right from her arms and stomach.

But Sailor Moon did not falter.

_ "...Power..."_

* * *

Ranma put everything he had into speed, rocketing across the rooftops at a dead sprint. Even at this distance he could practically _taste_ the magical power gathering at the tip of Sailor Moon's scepter, and the sheer magnitude of it was absolutely terrifying. _If she hits Kodachi with that..._

Not to mention the bloody damage that Kodachi's ribbon was doing to Sailor Moon as well. He had to get the two of them apart! They were so close—only the tiniest fraction of a second away at his current inhuman speed... but he could see that it was too late. He could read it in her body language. Sailor Moon was launching her attack. _Now._

He threw himself forward with all his strength, trying with all his might to at least reach Kodachi, to grab her, to try and dodge whatever was coming. He was all but invisible, moving so fast that even most martial artists would have only seen a flicker of red and black as he shot across the rooftop and—

_ "...KISS!"_

—and then everything was golden light.

There was no "dodging" it. Power burst from her upraised scepter like the sun come to rest on earth, pouring over everything like a tidal wave. Ranma threw up his arms in front of himself in a futile gesture of defense, but could do nothing else as he felt the overwhelming magical energies wash over him. It seemed to go on forever, but eventually there was a final pulse, then what looked like thousands of pure white feathers rushing past him. Only then did the light fade.

Which was when Ranma discovered—to his mild astonishment—that he had _not_, in fact, been reduced to a tiny, smoking pile of ash.

He looked down, checking himself, but all his limbs seemed to be in their appropriate places. He was panting hard from the exertion of traveling that entire distance at the insane velocity he had, but otherwise he felt fine. He looked over at Kodachi, and she seemed to be all in one piece as well.

At least... physically she was. Looking closer, Ranma realized to his shock that there were tears running down the gymnast's face.

* * *

When the purifying light washed over Kodachi, the magic was driven by Sailor Moon's desire to free the girl from what was causing her such anguish. The Sailor Senshi had assumed that the cause was Ranma's control preying on her mind... when in fact the true problem lay in the tattered remnants of the half-conscious Wish she herself had made all those years ago, as she lay clinging to life in the Arctic snow.

Kodachi had been desperately clinging to that magic, trying to hold back the memories she did not want to face, refusing to let go even when outside evidence had caused her amnesia to steadily erode as the years went by. The tension had strained and twisted her already-fragile grip on reality, resulting in the tormented young woman who had attacked the magical girls.

Sailor Moon knew none of this. But that didn't much matter. Indeed, the fact that she was the author of both spells only meant that it was that much easier for the Silver Moon Crystal Power Kiss to do its work. When the golden light struck the gymnast, it took those broken remains of the spell blocking Kodachi's memory and dissolved them utterly in a flood of warmth and restoration.

Kodachi remembered. She remembered everything. The good and the bad, the painful things and the joyous things, the failures and the accomplishments and everything in between. She remembered the depredations that the Darkmistress had visited on her, and she remembered overcoming that torment to help Mousse kill the vile monster. She remembered the battle where she had helped to save the world. She remembered her death, and the deaths of her rivals. She remembered it all.

And all throughout her remembering, she was enveloped in the power of Sailor Moon's magic, as though her very soul were wrapped in a tight, loving embrace. It did not hide the pain from her—not this time—but it held her through that pain, a constant reminder of hope, a reminder that there was so much more than just what had hurt her.

She didn't know when she had started crying, but eventually she noticed that there were tears streaking down her face. She felt as though her defenses had been stripped away, all the lies that she had subconsciously relied on vanishing, leaving her soul naked and exposed to everyone.

It was too much. Far, far too much. She had to get away. With a sob, the gymnast turned and ran for all she was worth, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, her tears still falling freely as she fled.

* * *

Ranma stared in bewilderment, his mouth slightly agape, as Kodachi ran away from him, crying. _What the hell?_ he wondered, trying to make some sense out of her behavior. It wasn't like Kodachi was very rational even at the best of times, but he'd never seen her act quite like this before.

Then he turned back to look at Sailor Moon. The white of her uniform was still stained a seeping crimson from the slashes Kodachi had given her, but she was regarding him with a determination that had only increased. "Are you still going to try and tell us that you aren't mind-controlling these girls into your being your servants, Ranma?" she demanded, her eyes flashing.

Ranma clenched his eyes shut in a brief, resigned wince, as he began to put two and two together and felt the inevitability of the situation closing in on him as a result. "Okay..." he said at length. "Okay, yes, I realize that to _you_ that probably looked just like you freed her from my 'mind-control' or whatever, but... it wasn't... look, I can _totally_ explain that one too!"

Actually, the more he thought about it, he wasn't even sure if he _could_ explain it—not yet, anyway. He didn't actually know what had just happened, except for a vague sort of guess that Sailor Moon's magic might've had a different effect on someone whose head was as messed up as Kodachi's was. He didn't even know what that effect had been, and he wouldn't know until he had the chance to find the gymnast again and talk to her.

Either way, it didn't seem like Sailor Moon was particularly inclined to believe his protest. She raised her scepter in front of her, and Ranma felt the girl's incredible power swelling once again, causing his skin to crawl at the sheer magnitude of it. "I don't want to hurt you," she told him, her voice quiet. "But I won't let you hurt my friends either. And I won't let you keep your hold over Ukyo and the others, either. No matter what."

Behind her, the other Sailor Senshi were already starting to fight their way back to standing or kneeling positions. They were starting to shake off Kodachi's paralysis powder, and doing so faster than Ranma would have expected. Tuxedo Kamen had regained his footing as well, and moved to stand protectively in front of Sailor Moon, ready to intercept if Ranma tried anything.

And of course, Sailor Moon was the problem to trump them all. She was already injured and defending her impaired teammates... which was the kind of situation that Ranma absolutely _didn't_ want to face her in. _If she gets desperate enough to pull out all her stops, that'll be... very, very bad. This is not a good time to push her._

On the other hand, when _would _be a good time to fight someone so powerful? Sooner or later he'd have to do it. He'd tried to explain his innocence, and they'd inexplicably refused to believe him even _before_ they'd seen the "evidence" of his mind-control with their own eyes. Would he ever get a better shot than this?

And yet, he knew from what he'd seen at the North Pole that it would only take her an instant to unleash her full strength once she'd made the decision. Could he really get past Tuxedo Kamen _and_ completely knock her out—all before she could react? He wasn't exactly operating at full capacity either, not right on the heels of his insane sprint just to get there in time.

_No,_ Ranma thought, chastising himself. _No, you're going at this all wrong. You're smarter than this, Saotome! Don't try and beat her strengths head-on. There's gotta be some kind of trick you can pull. Some way to get the upper hand. Some way to make sure she can't just obliterate you even if she... manages... to..._

And that was when the idea hit.

It was a trick all right. And a dirty one too. But it nevertheless allowed for the safest method Ranma could think of for dealing with a being who could wield as much raw power as the girl standing in front of him. Because there was one aspect of her abilities that he _did_ know the limits of now—one avenue of attack that he was confident would work based on what he'd already seen.

The only problem was that he couldn't exploit it himself.

Ranma laughed. Just a soft chuckle at first, then louder and louder until it earned him some wary looks from the Sailor Senshi. The pigtailed fighter didn't care. "Okay," he said at last. "Okay. If this is the way it's going to be... then let's do this _right_." He raised his finger, then leveled it to point straight at Sailor Moon. "I challenge you."

Sailor Moon blinked. That hadn't been what she'd been expecting. "...challenge me?"

"All of you." Ranma swept his finger across all the assembled Sailor Senshi and Tuxedo Kamen for emphasis. "I challenge you all to a showdown. Tomorrow. Noon. At the old warehouse by the water tower, three miles north of Furinkan High. You guys against my team. Six against six. Heck, I'll even let you bring along Sailor Pipsqueak there for free if you want."

_"Hey!"_ protested the pink-haired girl, her tone irate. "It's Sailor Chibi-moon!"

"Whatever." Ranma's mouth twitched upward in a cocky smirk. Despite everything that had gone wrong today, despite the danger he was still in, at least he was on familiar ground now. One way or another these kinds of situations always seemed to turn out like this for him. He didn't know why he'd ever thought this one might end up any different. "Anyway, here's the stakes. If you win, then you can do whatever you want with me. But if we win, then you have to admit that we _aren't_ trying to kill you and take over the world. Which shouldn't be a problem, 'cause if we do win, it'd mean we _could've_ killed you all if we _damn well wanted to!_"

With a grimace, Sailor Venus forced herself unsteadily to her feet, glaring over at him. "And what's to stop us from taking you on right here and now, while we outnumber you?" she demanded. "You've already tried sneak attacks on us _twice_ now, first that ninja girl, then the gymnast girl. Why should we let you go just to try it again?"

Ranma snorted, crossing his arms as he looked over at the blonde Senshi. "You don't exactly look like you're in the best shape yourself," he observed. "But hey! Your call if you want to try it now. Otherwise? You can take the chance to recover and come at us fresh tomorrow. Fair and square."

"Like you have any right to talk about 'fair and square'!" shot back Sailor Jupiter, who had risen to one knee. She looked like she had gotten the worst of the paralysis—probably had been closest to the powder-bomb when it had gone off. She was glaring at him too, but Ranma could tell that she didn't care for the odds either.

And this was what it all came down to. Ranma shifted his gaze, looking Sailor Moon right in the eye. She was the deciding factor. If she took the chance and just attacked him with one of her regular attacks he'd have to try and stop her before she could get it off. If she took the chance and went all the way to Fluffy White Dress mode... well, in that case he was pretty much dead. But if he could just get out of this situation in one piece...

Looking deep into Sailor Moon's eyes, trying to read the emotions he saw there, Ranma decided to take a gamble. He raised his hands with their palms outward, took a step backward, then another step, then spoke up. "Remember. Noon at the warehouse, if you want to settle this once and for all. Don't be late."

With that he turned away, deliberately showing his back to her, and calmly walked over to the edge of the rooftop, then jumped from there toward the next one.

* * *

Sailor Moon watched Ranma go, her Final Tiare leveled directly at his receding back, before she finally lowered it. As the adrenaline of combat left her, the weariness and pain from all the slashes she had taken flooded back over her, and her hands began to shake.

He'd been manipulating her. She'd understood that, even as he was doing it. The Dark Lord had _known_ that she wouldn't shoot him in the back in cold blood. _Sailor Galaxia would probably reprimand me again if she were here..._ she thought to herself as she watched him go. _But even so, it... just isn't something I can do._

She knew she would have to stand against him ultimately; everything about the situation demanded it. And yet even now she felt the same uneasiness building inside her, the same sick sensation deep in her heart that she had felt while fighting against Galaxia, while fighting against Nehellenia. The feeling that this was all going _wrong_, that it didn't need to be this way, that it was possible to end this without the death and suffering that she so desperately wanted to avoid.

It wasn't something she could put into words. There was no reasoned argument she could make against the unassailable facts. He had already tried to conquer the world once before, proudly proclaiming his intent. Luna had overheard him plotting to do it once again. When they had confronted him with that, he had responded with a treacherous sneak attack right in the middle of negotiations, followed by a second one using the poor brainwashed girl.

They had to stop him. They _had_ to. And yet, despite all that, her gut-level uncertainty remained. There had been something in his eyes when he protested his innocence. Something that she did not want to doubt, even in the face of how absurd it was to give his words the slightest bit of credence.

The young princess closed her eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of everything, trying to determine what the right course of action was. So much remained murky and unclear to her... but she at least knew the next step that she should take. For now, that would have to be enough. She opened her eyes again and turned to the other Sailor Senshi, who looked back at her with understanding.

"First of all," Sailor Moon said. "Let's see if we can track down where that girl ran off to. Ranma might try to recapture her, after all, so we need to make sure she's safe. And if we find her, she might also be able to tell us something more about what his plans actually are before we confront him again tomorrow."

* * *

Hours later, Tanizaki Kazuo sat in the chair next to the massive computer system in his otherwise austere penthouse suite, listening attentively as a plain-featured man who looked for all the world like a normal, average office worker finished giving his report.

"...and once both groups were on the rooftops together I couldn't overhear any more of their conversation without parting from the crowd and risking exposing myself," the man told him. "Still, I observed what I could. From what I could tell the combat continued up there for a while after that. There was even a lull for a little bit, and then it kicked up again for a while. The big blast of light was the last attack before the pigtailed boy fled once again."

"Fascinating..." was Kazuo's reply. He certainly hadn't been expecting anything like _this_ when he'd sent his spies to observe the Sailor Senshi's latest conflict. "And you said they referred to this young man as 'Ranma', correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Ranma..." Kazuo mused, speaking the name thoughtfully. "Ranma... I've heard that name somewhere before."

He swiveled his chair around to face his computer and began to type, and soon a file appeared on the screen, complete with a grainy photo of a pigtailed young man fighting what seemed to be a large clay golem. "Is this the fighter you observed?"

"Yes sir."

"Mmm, I suspected as much." Kazuo stroked his chin as he contemplated the file. "Saotome Ranma. A young man of some renown in martial arts circles, though not a member of the... particular groups that we typically recruit from. Among other things, it seems he was involved in that incident in India last year."

Zhang's eyebrows went up a little, and he leaned closer from his position at Kazuo's right to get a better look at the file on the screen. "_That_ was him? Impressive."

"And there have been other rumors as well," Kazuo continued, scrolling the text of Ranma's file down. "Some of the stories floating around have him taking part in action against the Dark Kingdom during the Lost Year. He has quite the legend, actually. Including feats like destroying entire youma armies with a wave of his hand, and then going on to mortally wound Metallia in single combat using a 'secret demon-slaying technique' that apparently only he knows."

The Chinese assassin coughed. "That seems a bit... farfetched."

"Yes, doubtless highly exaggerated," agreed Kazuo. Getting reliable information on what had actually happened during the Lost Year was next to impossible. All physical records were completely gone; the only possible source was the hearsay of those who had managed to regain their memories, and even those people were very few and far between. "Still, if this young man does have history with the Sailor Senshi then there is probably a kernel of truth behind it. I don't doubt that he _did_ take part in the final assault on the Dark Kingdom. Probably even in a crucial role."

But what was even more interesting was that regardless of his stance toward the Dark Kingdom, his relationship with the Sailor Senshi seemed to have been an antagonistic one. Enough so that it had degenerated into open violence on their finding him again.

And that opened... _possibilities_.

"Thank you for your report," Kazuo said, giving his spy a gesture of dismissal. He waited until the man had left, the elevator doors closing behind him and the elevator itself starting to descend. Then he turned to Zhang.

"Contact Doctor Metzger," the businessman ordered. "Tell him to put as much pressure as he can on Project Janus. I want to know the _exact_ time and place that this Ranma will next clash with the Sailor Senshi."

Zhang raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. "Yes sir," he said. "May I ask why this is so important?"

"Because as the good doctor mentioned earlier today, he feels that conducting a more large-scale test of Unit Zero is necessary before we can have enough confidence for a field deployment," Kazuo explained, a satisfied smile growing across his face as he contemplated this latest change to the situation. "And if they do fight each other again, it may well provide us the _perfect_ opportunity to do just that."

* * *

Kuno Tatewaki walked, head bowed, along the grassy, secluded path. The only sound was the occasional crunch as his sandaled feet happened to step on a stray twig. The young man himself was lost in contemplation, ruminating on what he had heard from Ranma about what had happened to his sister.

Konatsu had been sent to search for her, while simultaneously avoiding the Sailor Senshi who seemed to be doing much the same thing, but neither he nor they had met with much success. By the time the search had started the fleeing girl had too much of a head start, and had vanished somewhere they could not locate.

She had not returned home, nor had she gone to Saotome's residence. But there was one other place that she might have gone, one other place where Kuno suspected that he might find her if Ranma's description of her emotional state had been accurate.

He continued to walk, his thoughts his only company, until eventually the path opened up into a modest clearing. And there, toward the center of the clearing, he could see his sister, kneeling curled up in front of one of the simple stone grave markers that dotted this part of the cemetery.

The young kendoist said nothing at first, simply walked over and knelt down beside her, staying with her in silence for a long time. Eventually he looked over at her, at the tear-tracks staining her face, at the expression she wore as she looked at the grave. Then he spoke. "You remember."

Kodachi nodded her head silently. Tatewaki turned back to look at the grave again for a while before continuing. "You will overcome this trial," he said. "You already overcame it once before. You are too strong to be defeated by merely the sudden resurgence of its memory."

A whisper that might almost have been a laugh escaped Kodachi's lips. "Of course, brother," she said, her voice rough with emotion, unsteady, but not uncertain. "There was never any doubt. I merely needed to... sort my thoughts through, now that I can see the reality of the phantasms I was trying not to believe."

Tatewaki nodded. And there was nowhere that his sister would feel more safe to do that kind of soul-searching than this one place.

The two siblings remained there, kneeling in front of the grave in silence, until at last Kodachi rose to her feet and bowed deeply toward the grave marker. Then she spoke. "Let us go, brother," she told him. "No doubt my darling Ranma is worried over my sudden parting from him. And... I find that I am in need of sleep. I believe that I will sleep better tonight than I have in some time."

* * *

Late that evening, Ranma paced up and down the length of the Tendo dojo as he ran through his plan once more. He had made all the preparations he could for now, talked with all the people who were going to be involved. Shampoo had agreed in a heartbeat once he'd called the Nekohanten and explained to her what was going on; she and Mousse had shown up later in the day to join the rest of the conspirators.

Another relief had been when Kuno had called, letting them know that he'd found Kodachi and that she was now safely home. Apparently Sailor Moon's Crystal-Kiss-Zap Power-Beam had ended up removing the blocks on her memories, which did certainly explain why she had been so distraught. Ranma had figured it had been something like that, but it was still nice to get the confirmation.

A small grin crossed the pigtailed fighter's face. He knew that he should be apprehensive about the opponents he was taking on this time—and part of him was—but he couldn't deny that another part of him was enjoying this. It had always stung his pride, just a little bit, that he'd had to throw his last fight against the Sailor Senshi, ending their conflict with his "loss" to them. So if a rematch _did_ end up being inevitable, despite all his efforts to the contrary... well, he wasn't going to complain _too_ much.

And he _could_ beat them. He was sure of it. He'd worked everything out, figured out all the angles, and decided the strategy they were going to use this time. He knew they could pull this off. It would play out just like it always did when this kind of problem came up for him. Everything would come down to a big martial arts battle, and once it was over, whatever crazy misunderstanding the Senshi had gotten into their heads would get straightened out. And then things would go back to normal. Easy as that.

He let out a chuckle. "All right then!" he announced to the empty dojo. "Looks like the Dark Lords of Nerima are back in action."

"And this time... we're aiming to _win_."


	5. The Opening Moves

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the delay on getting this chapter out. On the plus side, part of the reason it took so long was that I ended up re-working where the chapter boundaries fell to try and get a better flow... the upshot being that I already have the _next_ chapter very nearly done already as well, since I ended this one in a different place than originally planned due to sizing issues. So it shouldn't be anywhere _near_ as long a wait for the next one to be ready.

(Oh, and just FYI, a couple reviewers mentioned to me that they didn't get any alerts from this site for the last chapter update, so if you've been following just based on those it might be worth a quick check to make sure Chapter Four didn't slip by.)

With that said, hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Five: The Opening Moves

When Usagi awoke early the next morning, she felt barely rested at all. Sleep had not come easily, and even once she had managed to fall into slumber it had been fitful and uneasy, filled with shadowy, half-remembered dreams.

Stifling a yawn, the groggy seventeen-year-old pulled herself into a sitting position. It wasn't usual for her to be awake this early, but something told her that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep again. Instead she turned to look out the nearby window, at the early, rose-colored flickers of dawn starting to creep over the rooftops. Bringing with them the day of their scheduled battle.

"Usagi?"

The blonde girl looked down toward the foot of her bed, where Luna had been curled up sleeping. With a prick of guilt, she realized that her stirring had woken the small cat. "Sorry," she said, matching the whisper that Luna had used. "I was just... thinking."

Luna padded up the length of the bed, sitting down next to Usagi and looking up at her young charge. "About the fight?"

Usagi nodded. She'd been trying to decide how she would handle it. Ranma's brainwashed servants were the easiest part; they'd seen with their own eyes yesterday that the Silver Moon Crystal Power Kiss could free them from whatever magic was enslaving them. One way or another, she had to do _that_ much. Accepting his challenge was worth it just for the chance to do so.

But what then? How many of the six fighters Ranma was fielding would be like that, and how many would be like the Dark Lord himself, trying to conquer the Earth of their own free will? With him, there didn't seem to have been any corruptive outside influence for her powers to purify. It was his _own_ desires that were leading him down this path.

They would have to stop him somehow. She knew that. But Usagi was determined to find a way to do it without anyone dying. Maybe once they stripped him of his supporters they might be able to concentrate their efforts and bring him down using one of their non-lethal attacks?

She sighed. Ami was so much better at this kind of strategizing than she was. She'd have to ask the blue-haired girl if she had any ideas for capturing their opponent alive when they met up again.

And if worst came to worst... there was always the Ginzuisho.

Those kinds of thoughts chased each other back and forth through Usagi's mind, with no solid conclusions presenting themselves. They were suddenly interrupted, however, by the feel of a paw placed atop her hand. The young princess looked down at Luna, who was looking back up at her with a concerned expression. "Don't worry so much, Usagi. We've been through worse than this. I'm sure everything will work out."

Usagi smiled, reaching over with her other hand to pet Luna's head affectionately. "Thanks," she said. "I'm sure it will too."

* * *

"All right," Ranma said, using one knuckle to rap the piece of paper that he'd laid out on the Tendo's living room table. "This is how we're gonna play it."

Gathered around that table, and the paper resting on it, was everyone who had shown up in response to the formal challenge Ranma had issued to the Sailor Senshi—a larger group than before. Ryouga was sitting on the opposite side of the table from Ranma, his arms crossed as he studied the diagram on the paper, which was upside down for him. Akane, Shampoo, Ukyo and Beneda all sat around the table on either side. Konatsu looked on from just over Ukyo's shoulder, while Mousse and Kuno each leaned against nearby walls.

It was a good turnout. Response had been quick when Ranma had come back with the news that the Sailor Senshi had flatly refused to believe his explanation, that they still considered "the Dark Lords of Nerima" to be their enemies, and that it would all be settled today in a face-off. Even those that weren't on the Senshi's list yet, like Mousse, had been more than willing to pitch in to help their friends who were.

Besides, all of them enjoyed a good scrap. This was, after all, their _usual_ method of resolving disputes like these to begin with.

Ryouga scrutinized the diagram Ranma had sketched, but his examination didn't reveal much. His rival had just drawn very rough, cartoonish versions of the faces of the various magical warriors opposing them. The pigtailed fighter had broken them down into groups, each group of faces having its own row.

The topmost row, which seemed to correspond to the highest threat in Ranma's mind, consisted of the two talking cats. Or at least, Ryouga assumed it was them. The lost boy didn't remember them having quite so many fangs, or such a demonic expression, but who was he to criticize Ranma's artistic vision?

"So the most important ones to take care of from the start are these... _things_," Ranma told them, his finger stabbing down on that first row. "Konatsu, that's your job. I want you to stake out the Moon girl's house. Watch her, so we'll know if they're trying anything funny. And then you'll be in the perfect position to grab the little monsters right off. Stuff 'em in a bag or something, and then get back to the main fight as fast as you can."

"Of course, Ranma," was the ninja's eager-to-please reply.

"Good," the pigtailed fighter said, a distinct note of relief in his voice. "Now the next most dangerous one is her." He pointed to the next row down, which consisted of a single face, this one identifiable mainly by the buns and pigtails Ranma had drawn on either side of her head. "We don't even really know everything she's capable of, and what we _do_ know is pretty crazy. Hell, when she was throwing down with Metallia I couldn't even get close to them, and that was without them realizing I was even there."

"And you think we can beat someone who can do that?" asked Mousse skeptically, a skepticism that Ryouga shared.

"Well... depends," Ranma hedged. "I mean, not if she went all out, but we don't know what it'd take to make her do that. Anyway, there's no reason to risk that in the first place... not when we've got a way better secret weapon to use against her instead."

Akane's expression became a puzzled frown. "Secret weapon? What secret weapon are you talking about?"

Ranma's grin widened as he looked back at his fiancée. "Actually... you."

The youngest Tendo blinked. "Me?"

"All of you." Ranma waved his hand across Ukyo, Shampoo and Akane. "Remember, for some reason they think I like to brainwash girls into my servants, and the whole thing with Kodachi just 'proved' it to them. So if _you_ guys are fighting them then they aren't going to be trying to kill you to begin with. They'll just be trying to hit you with that Moon girl's magic fix-you-up beam..."

"...which won't actually _do_ anything to us even if it does hit," finished Ukyo, understanding now.

"And that isn't even the best part," Ranma continued. "That healing attack of hers? It isn't quick, and she's a sitting duck while she's trying to get it ready. Kodachi managed to land a hit on her while she was charging it up, and I'm sure any of you could pull it off too. _That's_ what we aim for. Go after Sailor Moon with the girls she wants to save, and go for a quick knockout while she's trying to do her thing."

Ryouga nodded, while silently noting a nuance to the plan that Ranma had not mentioned. This method of dealing with Sailor Moon also allowed Akane and the other girls to contribute in a role that was both inarguably crucial... but at the same time almost completely safe. The lost boy was pretty sure that had been a deliberate part of Ranma's planning.

"Using their own compassion against them," Ukyo remarked. "That's a pretty nasty trick."

Ranma shrugged helplessly. "Hey, I _tried_ to tell them you guys weren't brainwashed! It's not my fault if they don't believe me, and it comes back to bite 'em in the ass."

"And what about the rest of the Senshi?" asked Mousse. "I assume that we'll be handling them?"

"Right," agreed Ranma, pointing to the next row down, which had six faces on it, one with a top hat and one notably smaller than the others. "They'll probably be trying to run interference for Sailor Moon, so the rest of us will have to keep them busy to give the girls their shot. Just try to draw their fire as much as you can. Heck, we don't even really _want_ to beat any of her friends until Sailor Moon is out cold first—just to be on the safe side."

"Don't forget about the Outer Senshi," warned Beneda. "I know they weren't part of the seven-on-six challenge that you made, but I very much doubt that they'll just sit this out."

"Right." Ranma indicated the final row, this one with only two faces on it, one with short hair, the other with hair a bit longer. "We'll have to have someone ready to stop them if they try to interfere."

Ryouga's eyes gravitated to the short-haired drawing, mentally superimposing it with his memory of the Senshi in question holding a sword to the throat of a trembling Beneda. "Sailor Uranus is _mine_," he announced, his tone brooking no dissent.

Shampoo, meanwhile, was studying the diagram Ranma had sketched out, a look of slight puzzlement on her face. "Shampoo have question," she said, moving her finger across the different faces as she spoke. "Plan is for dealing with Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Uranus, Neptune, Tuxedo-man and Mini-moon-girl... but is more planets than just that. If 'Outer Senshi' is being problem, then what about Saturn? Pluto?"

At that, Beneda spoke up. "No," she said, shaking her head. "You don't need to worry about either of those. Even if Sailor Pluto were still alive today, she wouldn't involve herself in matters like these. According to the youma legends, she had some kind of... special purpose, or mission that she'd been assigned. No one knew what that was, but whatever it was, she never left it, or involved herself in battles like this one."

"And Sailor Saturn?" asked Ukyo.

The youma laughed a humorless laugh. "Sailor Saturn... the legends about _her_ are the ones that we'd tell young youma if we wanted to scare them within an inch of their lives. She was the Senshi of Ruin and Rebirth, the wielder of the Silence Glaive. But she wasn't active, not even back during the time of the Moon Kingdom."

"Why not?" asked Ryouga, curious.

"Because she wasn't a normal Sailor Senshi," Beneda explained. "She was a weapon of last resort, born only into times of untold calamity. Her normal destructive strength was immense; there are tales of her obliterating entire fortresses at once, or toppling mountains with a single blast. But even _that_ was like nothing at all compared to her true power."

"What was that?" asked Akane, sounding a little nervous herself.

"Death," replied the youma, her voice flat. "She held power over death, and could invoke it at will. She could cleanse an entire planet of life if she desired, just as easily as you or I might snap our fingers."

Then Beneda sighed. "But using that power would kill her as well. That's why you don't need to worry about Sailor Saturn showing up. She would never even appear unless such desperate measures were soon to be necessary... and even if that had happened, she wouldn't survive whatever crisis she was born to end."

Ryouga frowned. _What an awful destiny to have..._ he thought. And worse, for something like that to rest on the shoulders of a young girl, like one of those Senshi? The thought didn't sit well with him. But aloud, all he said was: "Okay. So it'll just be these nine at most that we have to deal with."

"Yes," agreed Beneda. "And a good thing, too. All this is crazy enough as it is. But if _Sailor Saturn_ were involved it would be nothing short of suicide."

* * *

Tomoe Hotaru glanced up from her breakfast as her father, Tomoe Souichi, entered the room. The tall, white-haired man looked down at her kindly, before moving over to sit across the table from her, pouring a bowl of cereal to match her own. "Good morning," he said, as he began to eat. "You're up early."

"I wanted to be sure I had everything ready," Hotaru explained. "Did you work things out with the school about my absence?"

"Yes," Souichi said. "I told them that you needed some time to recuperate from a relapse of the health problems that were causing your seizures. You've been excused from classes indefinitely."

"Thank you." The slender, dark-haired girl regretted the need for the deception, but she knew that it was necessary. "I left a note for you with the phone number of Haruka and Michiru's house if you need to reach me."

Her father nodded, a sad smile on his face. "You won't mind if I call you now and then to see how you're doing?" he asked. "It'll be very lonely around here without you."

Hotaru felt a twinge in her chest. "Hopefully I shouldn't be gone very long," she said hurriedly, trying to reassure him. "From what Setsuna told me this doesn't seem quite as... involved as last time. I may only be over there a few days."

"That's good," replied Professor Tomoe. "I hope it does end quickly. I... worry about you, when you're gone like that."

The young girl bowed her head, not meeting her parent's eyes. She hadn't told him any specifics about why Setsuna was calling her away again. That was Outer Senshi business, not something that civilians should be involved in. Safer for everyone that way.

Except that, unlike the families of the other Sailor Senshi, her father had seen something of the supernatural events surrounding his daughter. True, he didn't specifically remember the time he'd spent possessed by the Daimon Germatoid, creator of all the other Daimons. But he still knew that his daughter—who had reverted back to an infant following the battle against Pharaoh 90 at Mugen Academy—had suddenly grown back into a teenage girl again in a matter of weeks.

Which was a rather hard secret to keep from one's father.

Hotaru had given him a brief explanation for the change, and he had accepted it quietly, not pressuring her for more. There were times, usually after she noticed her father staring out a window at nothing, a haunted look on his face, when she wondered whether or not her explanation _had_ called back some fleeting memory of his time as the leader of the Death Busters... and of what he had tried to do to her back then.

She hoped not. There was no need for him to relive that pain and guilt. Germatoid was destroyed, she was free of Mistress Nine's possession, and Pharaoh 90 had been defeated once and for all. She had her real father back, the one who loved her. That was all that mattered.

And yet... when she looked at the weary set of his shoulders, slightly stooped, as though under a burden she could not see, she wondered what buried guilt still lay beneath the surface, eating away at him. And what, if anything, she could do to help release him from it.

The jangling ring of their telephone interrupted her thoughts, and being the closest, she hopped up from the table to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hotaru." The voice on the other end was instantly recognizable.

"Setsuna," the young girl replied. "My father has worked things out for my absence. I can join the rest of the Outer Senshi whenever you want."

"Good," was Setsuna's response. "But there has been a new development. I've spoken with Chibi-Usa, and these 'Dark Lords' have made their move. They've challenged the Inner Senshi to a seven-against-six fight at noon today, and the Inner Senshi have accepted."

Hotaru's eyebrows went up. "What are we going to do?"

"We let them play this out," replied the Senshi of Time. "Long enough to draw the enemy in, at least. But I want the Outer Senshi on hand to intervene if the fight starts to go badly. Usagi's agreement with them notwithstanding."

"...I agree." It made her stomach sour, going behind Usagi's back and against her wishes like this. But Hotaru owed Usagi and Chibi-Usa everything, and she was determined to do _whatever_ it took to keep them safe. Even if it did mean breaking the agreement they had made, at least it would be herself who would be at fault for that—not either of them. "What can I do?"

"The battle is taking place at an abandoned warehouse," Setsuna explained. "The four of us will meet there ahead of time and stake it out. Then, if our assistance is required, we will be on hand to crush these Dark Lords once and for all."

* * *

"So tell us, Doctor Metzger..." asked Kazuo, looking across the small group consisting of Metzger, Zhang and Ekim, all of whom were seated in his personal office overlooking the city. "What have you learned about the next clash between this Ranma and the Sailor Senshi?"

The elderly German cleared his throat. "I've instructed that all pertinent intelligence reports be delivered to the Janus Project, and I told the interrogators to push as hard as they could for the information," he told the rest of them. "According to their reports, there will be _two_ battles taking place today involving the Sailor Senshi. One in an abandoned warehouse in Nerima, the other closer to the Juuban area."

"Interesting," Kazuo said. "Which of the two will Sailor Moon be taking part in?"

"The warehouse, as best we can determine," answered Metzger. "But sir... there's one other thing of which you should be aware. From what Project Janus has told us... it seems as though Sailor Saturn will be involved today as well."

That caused Kazuo's eyebrows to go up. "They're using _her?_" he remarked. "They must be treating this as a serious threat. She isn't a resource they deploy for small problems."

"It certainly has been a rare occurrence from what we've observed," agreed the doctor.

"But isn't that also a chance for us?" asked Zhang, leaning forward, a predator's gleam in his eyes. "Think about it. Sailor Saturn. In her _transformed_ state, fighting in a location we know ahead of time. That's not a chance that comes along every day."

Kazuo stroked his chin in thought. "A good point," he said at length. "I hadn't planned on making any further attempts until we'd gotten Unit Zero more stable, but you're right. A chance at Sailor Saturn is rare enough—and her abilities dangerous enough—that we should at least be ready in case the opportunity presents itself."

He turned back to Doctor Metzger. "I want a full squad of _Asura_-class Synths deployed to the area where Sailor Saturn will be fighting," he said. "Include a _Wraith_-class for scouting and transport as well. They should stay hidden, but be ready to strike should the situation warrant."

Then Kazuo spoke to Zhang. "Meanwhile, I want you to be the spotter for the test run of Unit Zero," he told the Chinese assassin. "Go to this warehouse, and observe the battle taking place there. If you see an opening that will allow us to conduct the test without drawing suspicion on ourselves, signal us."

Zhang replied with a small bow. "Of course, sir."

Kazuo leaned back in his chair, his mouth quirking up into a small smile as he did so. He had to admit, he was enjoying this development. A new player in the game, a completely unexpected wrinkle in his plans that he had to adjust for and find new ways to turn to his advantage. And a fellow martial artist, no less. By all accounts this 'Ranma' was an amazing prodigy, a true genius of a fighter.

_Very intriguing indeed..._ mused Kazuo. _I wonder how much of a challenge he could give me..._

* * *

With the early-morning meeting of the Nerima contingent finished, there was little for Ryouga to do but sit on the backyard porch of the Tendo home and wait until it was time to head out on his task. He resisted the urge to pace. That might have helped to assuage his growing impatience... but it could also end up with him in Aomori, which was not something they could afford right now.

"Hey."

The lost boy glanced back over his shoulder. "Oh! Hey Beneda," he said, brightening at the sight of his friend. She was in her youma form at the moment, and she walked around to sit down next to him.

"You know, with all the crazy things going on since you got back, we never took the time to just catch up," she said, a note of concern in her voice. "How have you been doing? Anything new happening?"

The lost boy shrugged. "Not much. I found a job working at a construction site that I managed to hold for a little longer than usual before I got lost again." He paused, then sighed, figuring he might as well answer the question he knew she wasn't asking. "And _no_, I didn't get so depressed over hearing that Akari is... engaged... that I broke my promise to you guys and started practicing the Tora no Seishin again. Good grief, I'm not _that_ fragile!"

Beneda's response was a look of slight embarrassment, but mostly relief. "Sorry. We were just worried about you. Disappearing for so long right after you heard the news..."

"Yeah, Ranma asked me the same thing right when I got back," Ryouga said. "But I wouldn't do anything that stupid. Really. I've... gotten over all that. Honest."

"That's good," said the youma, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Then she smirked. "Don't tell Ranma, though. He might get it into his head to try and play matchmaker again."

Ryouga shuddered. There had been a period of time—back when his depression over Akari forgetting about him had been far greater—where Ranma had taken it upon himself to "help" by orchestrating a series of dates designed to help Ryouga find someone new. The list had included Ukyo, Akane's friend Sayuri, and even Beneda herself.

With Beneda it had at least been pleasant, if a bit awkward; neither of them really thought of the other in _that_ way. Besides, he knew from their conversations when he'd gone to her for advice with Akane, and later Akari, that she _had_ developed that kind of romantic attraction toward Doctor Tofu. Ukyo, on the other hand, had spent the better part of their "date" trying to convince him that no, he really _did_ still have a shot at Akane, that they'd be perfect for each other if he'd only get his act together. And Sayuri...

He'd actually gone on several such dates with Sayuri before she'd finally admitted that—while she'd been willing to give it a try as a favor to Akane—she wanted more out of a relationship than a guy who would only ever be around for two or three times a month, on the occasions when he managed to find his way back.

"...yeah," Ryouga agreed. Right now, he didn't even want to deal with that sort of thing. It had hurt him too often and too badly. He just wanted to concentrate on more important matters, like helping his friends get out of this latest mess. "Anyway, how's work at the clinic going?"

Beneda shrugged. "Same as always. I'm learning a lot, and business is good. Just... so long as Kasumi doesn't come over, in which case I have to get all the patients outside as quick as I can before the Doctor... well, you know how he gets."

The lost boy gave Beneda a sympathetic look, hearing the despondent tone in the youma's voice as she spoke of her oblivious rival. "You haven't talked to Doctor Tofu yet? About how you feel?"

"No. I _can't_." She stared down at the ground, chewing on her lower lip as she fidgeted. "That's a violation of human customs, right? A teacher getting involved with his student? I read something about that in one of the medical ethics books that he gave me. What if I ask him, and it hurts things between us?"

"So you're going to wait until you finish your training before you say anything?" asked Ryouga. "That's... dangerous, with Kasumi in the picture. If he manages to get his feelings across one of these days without completely freaking out, who knows what might happen?"

"I know!" Beneda sighed, her shoulders slumping. "It's all so confusing, trying to do it the human way, without accidentally screwing it all up one way or the other. It wasn't _anything_ like this back in the Dark Kingdom."

"Well, don't let it get you down," suggested Ryouga, trying his best to be encouraging. "I'm sure it'll work out in the end. Honestly, I don't think it would be a problem to at least talk to him about it. Even if he doesn't want to go for it right now, I don't think it'd hurt anything between you. He'd probably understand."

Beneda didn't look too terribly convinced, but she offered back a small smile regardless. "Thanks," she said. "I'll... think about it."

Ryouga would have inquired further into how she was doing, but it was at that moment when Ukyo walked around the corner of the house and into view. "Oh, there you are," she said. "Are you ready to head out? We're going to have to leave soon if we want to make sure we can catch the Outer Senshi if they head for the warehouse."

The okonomiyaki chef didn't sound overly thrilled about the mission. Ryouga knew that she'd have much rather been fighting right alongside Ranma than him, but he needed someone to go with him to make sure he didn't get lost, and if the Outer Senshi were indeed more powerful and ruthless than the Inner Senshi then it needed to be someone who could defend herself pretty well. They'd eventually decided on Ukyo, who had grudgingly accepted.

"Where are we headed?" Ryouga asked, as he rose to his feet. Not that the answer would _mean_ much to him, but he felt as though it ought to be asked regardless.

"Well, it's better if we stop those two before they complicate Ranchan's showdown," Ukyo said. "And I'm pretty sure that 'Sailor Uranus' and 'Sailor Neptune' are the same two that visited my restaurant before they attacked Beneda. The address they gave me after they saw Beneda was a phony, but I still had their phone number from some calls we did earlier in the week, so I checked some telephone books for the Minato Ward area. Eventually I found a 'Tenoh Haruka' living at the same address as a 'Michiru Kaioh'."

The lost boy nodded in approval. "So we catch them there?"

"A lot better than letting them butt in while Ranma is hashing things out with the other Senshi, I'd say," was Ukyo's response. "But we should probably hurry."

"Fine by me. Let's go." Ryouga turned back to Beneda. "You sit tight here. We'll be back as soon as we take care of this."

Ryouga had done his best to be reassuring, but he could tell from her expression that Beneda was still worried. "Just... be careful," she urged him.

"I will," he promised. "Don't worry. They won't even scratch me."

* * *

Setsuna had told her to meet at the warehouse a half hour before the appointed time of the battle, and Hotaru had allowed herself extra time on top of that to make sure she found the place without any problems, leaving her father's house with plenty of time to spare. She'd taken the subway into Nerima Ward, then took a bus, before finally making her way on foot to her destination. All things considered she arrived a good ten minutes before even Setsuna's request, still in her civilian form in the interests of keeping a low profile.

At least the Dark Lords hadn't arrived yet—or at least, they didn't _seem_ to be there. The fifteen-year-old girl searched the large wooden building with her gaze, trying to find any signs of movement, but all she could see was lifeless and deserted.

"Ah, good. You're here."

Despite herself, Hotaru couldn't entirely suppress the startled _"eep!"_ that escaped her lips, as she jumped a little and whirled around to face the fuku-clad form of Sailor Pluto. The green-haired woman had come up behind her completely undetected.

"None of our opponents have shown themselves yet," continued the older woman, and Hotaru wondered how long _she_ had been observing this place. "But stay alert. There's no telling when they could arrive. We should head inside and take up positions."

The two Senshi walked across the open area surrounding the warehouse, entering through a door that had been left partially open. Once inside, Sailor Saturn quickly realized why the place had been chosen as a battleground. The cavernous building was filled with old crates, stacked into piles of various heights that were scattered across the warehouse floor. Several wooden catwalks ran overhead, both crossing the room as well as running around its perimeter. Sunlight filtered in through numerous cracks in the wall, casting long shafts of light in the dust that hung in the air.

Hotaru looked over at the other Senshi. "Should we find a hiding place so they don't see us?"

"That won't be necessary." Jumping up to a position on an out-of-the-way pile of crates from which she could survey most of the room, Sailor Pluto held her Garnet Rod out in front of her and intoned the words _"Dead Field."_ The heart on the end of the staff glowed, the space around her distorted for several seconds, and then she winked out of Hotaru's sight as though she had never been there.

The young girl climbed up onto that pile of crates herself, approaching tentatively. Once she came within about five feet of where she had last seen Sailor Pluto, the other Senshi was suddenly visible again. "This will allow us to watch the battle unfold without being observed ourselves," stated the Senshi of Time. "It will erase us from all senses and spectrums of perception. Not even Sailor Mercury's visor will be able to detect us within this level of protection."

Which reminded Hotaru anew that what they were doing was going behind the backs of Usagi and the other Inners. Her gaze lowered to the ground, but all she said aloud was: "Then I suppose I should transform too. To be ready for whatever happens."

Sailor Pluto nodded. "We need to be alert for both the enemy, and for Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune, whenever they arrive," she said. Then she gave a slight frown. "In fact... knowing those two, I would have expected them to have arrived by now as well."

The remark caused Hotaru some concern as well, but she tried to put the best face on it she could. "Well... maybe something came up?"

* * *

As it happened, Haruka and Michiru had made a similar decision to Hotaru's, leaving early so as to be sure of arriving well in advance of the scheduled meeting. Their plan, like hers, had been to take the subway, so they were still in civilian form as they prepared to leave the house that they shared. "So, what do you make of all this business?" Haruka asked, as they walked downstairs.

"It seems fairly straightforward," replied Michiru. "For all his magic and extra-dimensional origin this Ranma seems like an ordinary conqueror or despot. There's no indication of any greater power backing him like there was with the Death Busters."

Haruka nodded. "Yes, he seems mortal enough," she said. "My only worry is whether the princess will be willing to take advantage of that."

"It doesn't matter," was Michiru's response. "Yes, we both know she won't want to kill him. And she _shouldn't_ have to dirty her hands with anything like that. She isn't even supposed to be fighting on the front lines in the first place—even though she always does. _We're_ supposed to be the ones protecting her."

"Even from herself," agreed Haruka. Usagi might not agree with it, but the two of them were willing to use whatever measures were necessary to defend the world. That was the role of the Outer Senshi, and they were entirely committed to it.

The two of them reached the main hallway, and there put on their shoes before exiting out to the street beyond. "Let's hurry," Michiru said. "We need to get to the station in time... to... catch..."

Her voice trailed off, her face suddenly going pale. Haruka turned to see what it was that had shaken her, and once she saw, her face turned a similar hue.

There, standing between them and their destination were Ryouga and Ukyo. The bandanna-wearing fighter was leaning back against a nearby telephone pole, arms crossed, while the okonomiyaki chef was sitting crouched on the other side of the street. As the two approached she rose to her feet, a grim smile on her face. "Going somewhere?"

Haruka's fists clenched, her knuckles whitening. She had been afraid of this, afraid that their enemies might connect "Michiru Kaioh" and "Tenoh Haruka" with the Sailor Senshi who had shown up so soon after. As the days had gone by without any attack she had allowed herself to hope that they hadn't figured it out, but it seemed that hope had been in vain after all. Both their secret identities had been revealed.

"Ukyo," said Michiru, her voice tight. "I appreciate this follow-up visit... but after giving it some careful consideration we've decided _not_ to go with your restaurant for our party's catering. I hope you'll understand."

The chef's smirk widened slightly. "Actually," she said. "We're here about a different party. This one's going on in a warehouse, and it's one you're _not_ invited to. So you've got two choices. Either you stay put and let Ranma and the other Senshi have their showdown like they agreed..."

"...or you try to interfere," spoke up Ryouga, his tone leaving little doubt as to which option he'd prefer they take. "And we have our _own_ showdown right here, before the main event."

Haruka glanced around. Fortunately, the street was deserted at the moment, giving the Senshi a bit more freedom if they acted quickly. "Here or there, we're going to take you all down anyway," she told the Dark Lord as she reached into her pocket, pulling out her transformation pen. "Let's see how well you do when you're _not_ using a sneak attack."

"Fine by me." Ryouga began to crack his knuckles but otherwise waited for them to transform. Haruka and Michiru both raised their transformation pens in response, reciting the activation phrases as they did so.

_"Uranus Crystal Power, Make Up!"_

_"Neptune Crystal Power, Make Up!"_

Haruka felt the magic take hold of her, her normal clothes dissolving away as it did so. She spun, the pen in her hand swinging around her in a circle, its path tracing a circle of orange energy on the ground below. Once complete it flared up around her, her white leotard forming as the magic coursed around her. The blue collar, blue skirt and yellow bow formed moments later, and then her transformation was complete, and she stood as Sailor Uranus against the opponents facing them.

Or rather, the _opponent_ facing them. Ukyo still looked ready to fight, but Ryouga had spun away, his back now toward them, clutching at his nose with both hands as though to stem an enormous nosebleed. "Wh-wh-what are you _thinking?_" he stammered, his face burning red. "D-d-don't you realize that you're _completely_...? I mean, while you're turning into...? Couldn't you have just...?" He continued to splutter incoherently, while Ukyo's response was just to slam her palm into her forehead in aggravation.

Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune exchanged disbelieving glances, thrown by his reaction. Of all the characteristics they might have expected from an evil overlord, this level of flustered modesty was not one of them. Such gentlemanly foes weren't common at all. It was almost enough to make Sailor Uranus feel guilty about taking the perfect shot that it offered her.

Almost.

_"World Shaking!"_

Crackling orange energy gathered in her hand, which she slammed down into the pavement at her feet. From there it plowed through the ground toward the Dark Lord, gathering speed as it went. In moments it burst back up into the air, now a glowing sphere of destructive force. Ryouga spun back around just in time for his eyes to widen as it plowed into him head-on, blasting him backward through the telephone pole he had just been leaning against, then through the brick wall around the yard behind that, then through the house wall behind _that_, which crumbled down in ruins around him.

With him taken care of, the two Senshi turned their attention to the remaining opponent. Ukyo, however, seemed surprisingly undismayed by the turn of events. She simply sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose in vexation. "Idiot," they heard her mutter under her breath, before glancing over and calling out in a loud voice. "You totally deserved that, you know. Taking your eyes off your opponent."

The pile of rubble shifted, and then to Sailor Uranus's surprise Ryouga pulled himself back out of it. He gave a pained wince as he did so, and used one hand to wipe a small trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth, but he otherwise seemed to have survived the World Shaking intact. _What is this guy made out of?_ the Senshi wondered.

He glowered at her, cracking his neck back and forth, any embarrassment from their transformation entirely out of his system now. A furious, flame-like aura began to build around him, growing so hot that it was sweltering even from this distance. "All right," he said, as he began to advance on her. "My turn."

* * *

In the privacy of her room, Akane pulled the fabric of her _gi_ around her and tied it in place, her fingers moving with the unconscious ease of years of practice. It had seemed appropriate to wear, considering the formal nature of the challenge she was about to participate in. Soon the belt was synched tight around her waist, and she felt at least somewhat ready for what was to come.

"Akane look good," came a quiet voice from behind her.

The Tendo girl gave a startled jump, whirling halfway around before she managed to get herself back under control—but by then, of course, it was far too late to deny Shampoo the satisfaction. The Chinese girl was standing by the window, which she had opened and entered without Akane either hearing or sensing her presence. "...at least, Akane looking better than _last_ time we do this."

The Tendo girl rolled her eyes. "_That's_ not very hard. I'm surprised you didn't drag out those old costumes from somewhere and try to get me to wear that ridiculous mask and robe again."

The corner of Shampoo's lips quirked upward in a small smile. "Shampoo did consider it."

The reminiscence hung in the air between the two for a moment, before the Chinese girl spoke again. "Shampoo surprised that Akane not argue for _Shampoo_ to be the one going with lost boy to fight Outer Senshi."

Akane raised her eyebrows a little. "Why?"

"Akane know why," was Shampoo's flat retort, looking at her rival with a piercing stare.

"You mean, because of what you warned me about at our last fight?" Akane asked. "That you might need to kill me one day?"

"Is not even question of 'kill' in battle like this!" snapped Shampoo, agitation in her voice. "Akane have any idea how easy thing it is to just _let_ Akane die if fight go bad? For Ranma plan, need to work together, and is common sense to only fight alongside someone can _trust!_"

Now it was Akane's turn to give a wan little smile. She walked over to Shampoo and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then it's fine," she said, softly but firmly. "Because I _do_ trust you. There isn't anyone else that I'd rather have watching my back."

Shampoo jerked back at the words, as though they had stung her. "Then Akane is idiot!" she retorted, her fists clenching. "Akane stupid trust get Akane killed!"

"We'll see," responded Akane. "But I'm not going to push you away because of something like this. And I _don't_ think you're going to betray me. We've been through too much together for me to believe that now."

The Chinese girl looked away, the muscles of her jaw working silently. When she finally spoke, it was in a strained voice. "Shampoo may not have choice."

"We always have a choice," was Akane's quiet reply. "And... _whatever_ choice you feel you need to make in this mess... it's not going to change the fact that I consider you a friend."

* * *

Spatulas hissed through the air as Ukyo hurled them with machine-gun-like speed, tracing Sailor Neptune's path as the green-haired Senshi's ducking, weaving sprint turned into a headlong dive over the hood of a nearby parked car and into cover behind it. The vehicle's windows shattered and its metal body warped under Ukyo's barrage, but it shielded the Senshi long enough for her to reply.

A flash of greenish light outlined the ruined vehicle from behind, and then Sailor Neptune stood back into view, releasing a blast of magic from her palms with a cry of _"Deep Submerge!"_

The watery sphere bore down on Ukyo, growing in size as it came, crashing waves forming in its wake. Rather than try to dodge away, the okonomiyaki chef launched herself into a sprint directly _toward_ it, then at the last instant twisted herself into a low slide along the ground.

The Deep Submerge shot overhead, clearing her body by mere inches, its arcane energies making her skin crawl even as the waves trailing it slammed into her. But she burst through them, soaked but intact, her slide bringing her right up to the car that her opponent was using for defense.

Ukyo whipped the giant spatula off her back and spun it in a single smooth motion underneath the car. Then she wrenched it upward, sending the vehicle flipping through the air like it was one of her okonomiyaki. Sailor Neptune's eyes bulged as what had moments ago been her shield suddenly became a two-ton projectile on a collision course with her face.

The Senshi ducked frantically, the car spinning overhead to land behind her in a crash of tortured metal. Ukyo was already pressing the attack, swinging her spatula back down in an overhead strike. But it was blocked, when in a glow of green light, something that looked like a hand mirror appeared in the Senshi's grasp. The magical warrior raised it to intercept Ukyo's strike and the two weapons clashed together, the mirror's edge grinding against the neck of the battle spatula.

For a moment the two young women strained against each other, their eyes and weapons both locked, testing each other's strength. Then Sailor Neptune angled her weapon so that its reflective face was now pointed directly at Ukyo. The okonomiyaki chef could see the image of her own face reflected clearly there... but only for a moment, as its face began to glow with magical power. _"Submarine..."_

Ukyo ducked low, while at the same time twirling her spatula to come up underneath the charging weapon and knock it skyward, as the Senshi released her attack with a shout of _"...Reflection!"_ A wide beam burst from the mirror, just barely missing the martial artist, who used the opening to spin and drive the hilt of her weapon into the Senshi's stomach, lifting her off her feet and sending her flying backward. But Sailor Neptune managed to twist with the blow, shifting the point of impact so that it wasn't nearly as damaging as Ukyo had hoped. The Senshi landed on her feet, grimacing a little but still ready to fight.

With the lull in her own duel, Ukyo listened for a moment to the crashes, explosions and other sounds of combat coming from the other end of the street, where the duel between Ryouga and Sailor Uranus had drifted. She wasn't worried about him; if she could hold her own against her opponent then she doubted the lost boy was having much trouble with his. Still, she wanted to win conclusively before he finished up there and came to offer any unnecessary help.

It was then that Sailor Neptune raise her mirror once again. Ukyo's hand shot out in response, grabbing a bunch of spatula-shurikens from her bandolier and hurling them, aiming to either disarm the Senshi of her weapon or force her to move it to avoid the attack. Ukyo herself was already charging in, the fierce battle reigniting.

* * *

_"Space Sword Blaster!"_

Panting for breath and clutching at her aching side with her free hand, Sailor Uranus swung her sword in a rapid flurry of blows, each strike sending a slash of golden energy scything down the length of the street toward the oncoming Dark Lord. Ryouga, however, leapt for the rooftop to her left, running along it as the Senshi spun to send more slashes up after him.

The Senshi gritted her teeth and continued her assault, but for all her attempts she couldn't hit him. Then Ryouga made his counterattack, pulling a bandanna from around his head as he ran. The piece of cloth straightened in his hands, becoming rigid, and he hurled it down through a gap in her barrage with a cry of _"Nuno Bakusai Tenketsu!"_

The bandanna embedded in the ground right at her feet, whereupon the concrete exploded, blasting her through the air. She struggled to bring her end-over-end trajectory under control, but before she could, Ryouga dove down from the rooftops like a striking hawk, hitting her with a punch that slammed her back to earth. Her back carved a shallow trench through the street as she skidded to the other side.

Pushing back the pain, Sailor Uranus rolled unsteadily to her feet, stumbling for balance. Her open palm shot skyward, calling her power to it once more. _"World—"_

But the Dark Lord was on her before she could cast it down into the earth, his hand grabbing hold of her wrist, stopping the attack cold. Sailor Uranus used her other arm in an attempt to eviscerate him with the Space Sword, thrusting it up into his stomach, but Ryouga caught that wrist as well with his other hand. Then he yanked with both arms, wrenching her toward him in a crashing head butt.

Sailor Uranus' vision exploded into white, her knees wobbling beneath her as she fought to hang onto consciousness. She felt, rather than saw, the follow-up kick slam into her rib cage from the side, lifting her off her feet and sending her flying down the length of the street to land in an uncontrolled tumble.

Slowly, shakily, she managed to pull herself up to her hands and knees, lifting her head to look in the direction she'd come from. Ryouga hadn't moved, simply standing there, arms crossed, that raging aura still blazing around him. "So tell me," he bit out as he glared down at her. "How does it feel to point that sword at someone who can actually _fight back?_ Not so fun when you aren't threatening someone weaker than you, is it?"

Sailor Uranus blinked, confused for a moment before realizing what the Dark Lord was talking about. _Wait... that youma?_ she thought, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it. _That_ was why he was so angry?

With an effort, the Senshi pulled herself back into a standing position, looking her opponent straight in the eye. She'd lost her grip on the Space Sword when he'd head butted her, but she raised her hand and re-summoned it to her grasp in a flash of orange light, holding it in a guard position in front of her. "I don't care whether an enemy is weaker than I am, _or_ stronger than I am," she told him. "I don't care what my duty requires me to do, or what it costs me. I only care about defending this planet and the ones I care about from anyone who would endanger them. And right now, that means _you_."

Her words seemed to give Ryouga pause, and he looked at her with a measuring gaze for several long moments. She met that gaze without flinching, even though she knew full well that with the pounding she'd already taken, she didn't have much chance left of surviving the next few seconds.

Eventually, the Dark Lord gave a grudging nod. "All right... not _just_ a bully then, I guess," he admitted, and Sailor Uranus saw the aura surrounding him reduce to a low simmer. "Anyway. Let's finish this. Unless you want to just turn off your transformation and surrender now."

Sailor Uranus spat to one side, an eloquent expression of what she thought of his offer. She then raised her sword, channeling her power to it one more time, even as Ryouga gathered himself in preparation for his decisive attack.

* * *

As the explosive tempura flakes detonated beneath her, Sailor Neptune leaped backward for the rooftops, her mirror glowing green with gathering power as she soared. Ukyo, in response, produced a half-dozen thick ropes of intertwined noodles from somewhere and hurled them up after her. They snaked toward Sailor Neptune from every direction, twisting unnaturally through the air as though they had a mind of their own.

The Senshi unleashed her Submarine Reflection, the pale beam ripping through three of the noodle ropes that were aiming for her neck, and forcing Ukyo to dive headlong to the left as the attack carved a trench through the street. But just before she reached the rooftop she felt one of the remaining ropes coil around her ankle. Then there was a sickening lurch as she was yanked off-course, Ukyo swinging her overhead and then back earthward with all of her might. Sailor Neptune let out a short cry as she was slammed flat on her back, the concrete around her shattering from the impact.

Ukyo immediately launched herself in pursuit, bearing down on her prone foe with superhuman speed, her giant spatula upraised. But Sailor Neptune rolled to the side at the last second, and the young chef's downward slash only struck the crater that the Senshi's body had made. And in her eagerness, Ukyo had overextended herself. Sailor Neptune retaliated, hooking one of her feet behind her opponent's ankle to brace it and kicking out with the other, driving her high heel into Ukyo's knee joint as hard as she could.

The okonomiyaki chef screamed in pain and raised her spatula to strike again, but before she could Sailor Neptune kicked out once more, this time catching her opponent square in the torso. Ukyo went flying away while Sailor Neptune rolled back to her feet, leveling her mirror toward where Ukyo had landed.

Before she could fire, the chef slammed a small packet into the ground, and the entire area was filled with an explosion of flour, cloaking that entire area in a white haze. Sailor Neptune gathered her magic and began to unleash Submarine Reflection after Submarine Reflection into the fog, but none of them seemed as though they were connecting. Her suspicions were confirmed when over a dozen small spatulas spun out of the flour cloud, homing in on her like a swarm of insects.

_I don't have time to keep fighting blind like this!_ the Senshi realized as she dived into a roll to avoid the shuriken. _I have to finish her so I can go help Sailor Uranus._ She knew she'd gained an advantage with that hit to Ukyo's knee; it had to have slowed the other girl significantly. Then again, Sailor Neptune was not in the best condition herself, between the two-story slam and the other hits she'd taken earlier.

The Senshi stopped using the Deep Aqua Mirror to fire, and instead tilted it so that it reflected the area shrouded by the flour to her. The surface glowed green momentarily, and once that glow faded, the ancient artifact began to reflect the truth of what lay within that haze to her, displaying a wispy, glowing figure that showed the location of her foe.

Ukyo was on the move, not staying in any one place for too long. But she was limping, as Sailor Neptune had suspected. The Senshi raised her free hand, gathering another sphere of watery magic there, while her brilliant mind calculated the angles from the reflection to determine exactly where to aim. She had the advantage of surprise now, her opponent unaware that the cover she was relying on was no longer protecting her.

_"Deep Submerge!"_

The magical attack shot directly toward Ukyo, who with her injured leg had no chance to dodge in time. All she managed was to swing her giant spatula up in front of her as a shield. The Deep Submerge hit her spatula, blasting it back into her, and in turn blasting her down the length of the street to land in a crumpled heap, her weapon tumbling from her hands.

Sailor Neptune hurried over to where Ukyo lay, her mirror ready to fire at any sign of movement. The aches and pains from the beating she had taken up to this point were hurting even worse, now that the immediate rush of battle was no longer there to distract her. Still, she reached her fallen foe quickly, confirming that she was out cold.

For a moment, the Senshi considered whether it would be better just to finish Ukyo off right there and then, to make absolutely sure she wouldn't rejoin the fight later on. It wasn't an idea she liked, and she could imagine Usagi's horror at the death of a girl who had been her friend, and was probably just brainwashed into joining this fight. And really, how much of a threat would she even be at this point. But it _would_ be the safest course of action...

Sailor Neptune hesitated, torn... until her internal conflict was suddenly interrupted by someone tapping her shoulder from behind. She whirled around, and her eyes bulged at the sight of Ryouga standing there impassively.

She tried to leap away, but the Dark Lord was already attacking, and between the element of surprise and all the damage she'd taken in the previous fight she didn't have a chance to avoid it. One hand grabbed her shoulder, pulling her toward him, while the other slammed right into her solar plexus in devastating punch. Her body folded over his fist, as everything went black.

* * *

"How's this? Does this hurt?"

A sharp intake of breath and a few unladylike words muttered almost too quietly for Ryouga to hear told him that the answer to his question was in the affirmative. He removed his hands from Ukyo's knee and sighed. "Yeah, she got you good. I think it's probably a fracture. You should have Doctor Tofu or Beneda look at it once we get back."

The lost boy himself was no medical practitioner, not on their level, at least. Still, his directional curse had forced him to learn at least basic first aid from a very young age—bandages, splints, that sort of thing—since any injury he sustained in the wild was usually days or weeks away from being looked at by any real doctor. And right now, that rudimentary experience was telling him that Ukyo's injury was not a small one.

The okonomyaki chef grimaced. "The problem is _getting_ back. I bet I can manage walking, especially if I use my spatula as a crutch, but hopping rooftops..." She winced at the thought. "And we're not exactly going to be able to drag those two through the city streets either." She gestured over to the currently-captive Outer Senshi.

Ryouga had restrained them with some of Mousse's thickest chains that he had borrowed for just this purpose. The two magical warriors were bound back-to-back, one chain cinching them together at the waist, while other chains held their ankles together. Sailor Uranus was glaring daggers at him, as was Sailor Neptune, though the latter of the two had to crane her neck around to do so, which somewhat dampened the effect.

The four of them were on the roof of one of the nearby houses; Ryouga had managed to get all three of the then-unconscious girls slung haphazardly across his back for long enough to leap up here, where they were out of direct line of sight from the ground. It afforded some measure of privacy while he tried to puzzle out what to do next. He didn't want Ukyo moving around unnecessarily with her injury. But that meant that _he_ was stranded here too, since without her he'd unquestionably end up on the other end of the country if he tried to head anywhere without her to lead him.

That said, it wasn't like they had any further part in the plan anyway. Once the rest of the Senshi were conclusively defeated—and therefore forced to admit that Ranma _wasn't_ trying to kill them after all—someone else with a working directional sense would doubtless arrive to see how things had gone. At which point they would be able to free the Outer Senshi and arrange transportation back to Nerima for Ukyo.

Yes, the lost boy thought, there was no need to rush things. Someone would be coming for them soon enough.

* * *

Sailor Saturn's hand clenched the haft of her Silence Glaive tight, her thumb rubbing up and down in a small, near-unconscious gesture of worry. The silence was stifling as she and Sailor Pluto lay in wait, watching the empty warehouse. Sailor Saturn's thoughts were elsewhere, though, and eventually she looked up at the other Senshi. "They're not coming. Something's happened to them."

Sailor Pluto did not immediately respond, but Sailor Saturn could tell that the same concerns were on her mind as well. It was getting very close to the time of the battle itself, but Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune were still nowhere to be found. There was no way they would be this late unless something—or someone—had stopped them from coming.

"It is likely that they have been intercepted by the enemy," the Senshi of Time finally admitted, not looking back at the young girl. "But there is nothing we can do about that now. The main confrontation is imminent, and we must be here to protect the princess."

Sailor Saturn was fully aware of that, but the uneasiness she had felt before about what they were doing now returned tenfold. Going behind the Inner Senshi's backs like this had been bad enough, but doing that while two of her fellow Senshi might be in serious trouble elsewhere was even worse. _Can I really just leave Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune to their fate?_ she asked herself. _What would Sailor Moon do in this situation?_

The answer to that was obvious, of course. She would try to save everyone, just as she had done for Sailor Saturn herself. Usagi would never agree to sacrificing someone else's life so that she would be better protected; the very idea would be anathema to her.

And from her memories, Sailor Saturn heard the voice of Sailor Chibi-moon, when the young girl had stopped her from releasing her power of Death against Queen Nehelenia. _"Saturn... You told me to believe in the future of our prince and princess. Don't worry. They won't give way."_

The young girl took a deep breath, and then spoke. "I'm going to try and find them." Sailor Pluto _did_ turn to face her at that, her eyes widening a little, and Sailor Saturn rushed to explain herself. "I trust the Inner Senshi to win this. If it's a question of power they have Sailor Moon, and they'll still have you watching their backs. It's Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune who are in the most danger right now, and I think they're the ones I should be helping."

Sailor Pluto regarded her, and then spoke. "You realize, they may be dead already."

The hand gripping her glaive tightened even more at that. "...I know," Sailor Saturn admitted quietly. "But I still have to try."

Both Senshi met each others' gazes, until finally Sailor Pluto gave a small nod. "If you're going to do it, you should hurry."

"Thank you," was Sailor Saturn's heartfelt response. Then, without wasting any further time, she spun and dashed out of Sailor Pluto's Dead Field, leaping down from the pile of crates and sprinting toward the nearest exit. She soon burst through that, racing out into the yard beyond, then leaping for the surrounding buildings, leaping from rooftop to rooftop.

_I will find them,_ she told herself, willing it to be true. _I have to find them._

_And when I do... If those 'Dark Lords' have hurt them..._

Cold anger gripped at her heart, and she could feel the terrible power of Saturn swelling ever-higher in response. She rocketed from rooftop to rooftop in a barely-followable streak of purple and white, as the Senshi of Ruin and Rebirth bore down on her target, Silence Glaive in hand.


End file.
